No more do you give me your hand,
you don’t give me your lips,
no more do you leave your sweet scent
nowhere on my clothing.
Even in dreams, you are cold,
always you are ice cold.
Already left me in my dream
you're nowhere anymore.
Not even a tomb-stone or an urn
has been left behind.
You are nowhere anymore,
not on earth or down below.
I am just looking and guessing
where my dearest has gone.
For her just looking and looking,
awaken or in dream.
Because she is around, I know,
just fell behind, where, how?
I’ll be looking for as long as
I'm nowhere anymore.
Walking somewhere together on
the winding, scenic roads,
perhaps of an old summer, we
the old, the old couple.
Translated by: Maria Bencsath
2009-10-05
Ferenc Juhász : Silver Poplars Tremble (Reszket az ezüstnyárfasor)
The silver poplars are trembling,
they would like to fly, glide
with wild geese around the moon
their feathers flickering.
The poplars are weeping and weeping,
their weak shoulders are shaking.
Spinsters with hair of forged silver
grieve thus their fate for lacking marriage.
Translated by: Maria Bencsath
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