Margit Kaffka: I Have No Faith (Nem hiszek)

A tired butterfly had swung while dying
From ravaged twigs under a brownish leaf.
The subdued shadow of pallid foliage
Quaveringly chased the autumnal beams.

This life has been a very sad fairy tale.
Hundreds of birds were ready on the tree.
And they all chattered as a farewell to me
About my summer never to return.

The night has fallen after my bitter sigh,
And the sky became flooded with tearful stars.
Dreams came to pay me a visit on that night,
With as bright light as never seen in years.

My little room was very small and narrow,
Yet, able to hold a whole fairyland.
– And I dreamt about happiness, great and bold,
About great, happy fairy tale I dreamt.

I had often dreamt of heavenly beauty
And with aching heart I always awoke.
Enough! I do not want to dream anymore,
Or, to weep over perished hopes, no more.

I know: the sober, grey morning comes next day,
A blanket of fog and cold. It'll be sad.
Even if happiness came along today,
I still would not trust it. I have no faith.


1901

Translated by: Maria Bencsath

Margit Kaffka: A Wanderer’s Song (Wherever I go fields of flowers show) (Vándor ének (Amerre járok, nő virág))

Wherever I go fields of flowers show: –
As I pluck at them – it's you I think of.
The prettiest rose I would send you now,
You are far away, there is no way how, -
It would fade away if arrived at all!

I have a pigeon, – with wings that are white, –
I would send it to you for a reply,
I know it is fast when it is in flight, – but -
It has a nest at the edge of the forest,
Never reaching you, – it would stay behind.

And deep inside my heart – my dearest man,
Even my melody becomes pointless.
Would the current of showers carry it, ---
See, will get lost in far away valleys,
I don't trust it with the song my heart has.

Translated by: Maria Bencsath