• Язык:
    Венгерский (Magyarul)
Источник:
  • Baka István Alapítvány

A sok-sok égitest közül

Среди бесчисленных светил…

A sok-sok égitest közül
Zord földünk önként választottam,
S e világon szívem örül,
De akkor csak, ha víg uton van.

Ha meglep titkon engemet
A bú, lelkembe lopakodván,
Elnézem a fellegeket,
S a lelkem újra mosolyog már.

S ha néha mégis álmodom
Rég elhagyott édes hazámról,
Én magam is csodálkozom,
Mért dobban meg szivem magától.

Hisz oly rég volt már, és amott,
A mennyeken túl, hova úsznék…
Hát nem mindegy, hogy hol vagyok,
S fel is milyen vitorlát húznék?


Другие переводы:


А вот еще:

Creation

My words spawned giants, / and they sat guzzling wine / all night, crimson wine, / horrible wine. / / I would not have known such weariness / had they been drinking my blood; / Dawn’s fingers were running across / my back when I fell asleep. / / I woke when it was evening...

Stockholm

I dreamed of Stockholm: why? / A restless, troubled dream / sprung from some different time, / almost a nightmare - almost... / / A holiday, maybe: who knows? / The bell kept clanging, that bell, / like a huge organ gone mad, / and a whole city praying, buzzing, roaring... / / ...

Sweden

Land of quick cold, / of forests and heavy-backed mountains, where / rumpled waterfalls / roar like prophets of doom - / / Sacred land, sacred forever, / do you still remember / when your grim-faced Varangians / went out across Europe to Greece? / / Is it right ? Can it be righ...

You and Me

Sure, I’m not good enough, / I come from the provinces, / I don’t strum a guitar / but blow an old reed flute. / / I don’t read poems in velvet rooms and red-plush / halls, to dark dresses and starched black coats; / I read to waterfalls, I read to dragons, / I rea...

Ice Floes and the River Neva

Transparent spring green / was sprouting on the islands - / but no, the Neva’s fickle, / and turns gloomy in a flash. / / On the bridge: look. / Ice floes jumping, green / like copper poison, / rustling, as terrible as snakes. / / Our dreams sweat, and labor; a geographer...

Сhildhood

I loved the great meadows / and their honey scent / and clumps of trees, and dry grass / and bull’s horns in the grass. / / Every dusty bush along the road / shouted, "I’m playing with you! / Walk around me, watch out, / and you’ll see who I really am!" / / On...