István Vas: In Golden Net (Arany hálóban)

The pheasant is pacing in the golden net,
           his crest is blue and dark.
On heavy silver gown of golden embers:
          the twilight-sky.

The calyx of the purple peony-shrub
           pouring powerful scents,
with its golden foliage happily smiles
           the young elm branch.

How you belonged to be among these flowers,
           your flower-petal hair.
A dancing leaflet on the old twig, you are
           so far away!

Translated by: Maria Bencsath