From childhood's hour I have not been As others were -- I have not seen As other saw -- I could not bring My passions from a common spring --- From the same source I have not taken My sorrow -- I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone -- And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone -- Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn Of a most stormy life -- was drawn From ev'ry depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still -- From the torrent, or the fountain -- From the red cliff of the mountain -- From the sun that 'round me roll'd In its autumn tint of gold -- From the lightening in the sky As it pass'd me flying by -- From the thunder, and the storm -- And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view --
If you stare at stone dragons long enough their stone-chiseled forms will start to glide in tracked loops. A steady motion of the sinuous segments unbroken by cloud. They move slowly and steadily -- never breaking off into a new course. Some figure-eight, Some circle, but never do they come off the wall. Their movements never menace.
Have no mother, have no dad, have no country, have no God, no cradle, no winding sheet, no lover, no kisses sweet.
Haven't eaten for three days, my head spins, the body sways... Twenty years! My might, my gale, twenty years are now for sale.
If there is no customer, sell it to Devil in hell. With a clean heart, I will steal, If need be, I'll even kill.
They'll catch me and hang me up, with soft earth cover me up, and death-bringing grass will start from my beautiful, clean heart.
Translation by Frank Veszely in Hungarian Poetry: One Thousand Years (2023) Altona, Manitoba: Friesen Press, pp. 156-157.
NOTE: This poem got Attila expelled from university and preemptively scuttled any possibility of a career in academia. (Hence, my affinity for it. Any poetry that extracts such a cost is probably excellent poetry.)
Tiger Riding for Beginners 