Extern and intern
From the prowling death itself
(like an afeard mouse into the hole)
You will be to a woman escaping,
For protection at her arms, laps and knees.
Not just the fire,
That calls with ease, not just the desire,
But you are also pushed there by the must –
For this, you’d hug,
If you were on her drug,
Hugging her till the whiteness of the mouth.
A double burden,
‘n double treasure is the must to love.
For the one who cannot find a simple mate,
As so suportless
As the wild animal doing excrete.
There’s nowhere to hide
No resort; even you get a knife
And as a brave, you aim at your mother!
See now, it happened
A woman who understand’
These words, but she pushed you away.
I have no place,
In this way, among livings. Pains,
In my head’ to flourish my troubles;
Like a toddler,
Rattling the rattler
If he is left all alone.
What to do
Being contra or pro?
I have no shame to find out,
Since gets castaway
Even the poor who is a prey
Of the sun’s and night’s nightmares.
Falling of me like costumes
While from others, they fall in big love –
But where it is written,
To be tossed by death hither-thither
In fact of that I’m suffering all alone?
Is also in pain, being born by the lady,
Since the shared pain is eased by humbleness.
But for me
My painful chants bring money
Enjoined with disgrace and more sorrow.
Help me, guys!
You, little boys, let your eyes,
Let them burst where this woman goes.
Scream under the boots of dissidents
And tell them, please: It hurts so much.
O’ faithful dogs,
Get under cars’ wheels and smogs,
Then bark to them: It hurts so much.
O’ women with burden,
Abort your half-living organ,
Then cry painfully: It hurts so much.
O’ healthy men,
Fall down and cripple then,
Just to mutter: It hurts so much.
Fighting each other for a woman,
Don’t keep it silent: It hurts so much.
O’ horses and bulls,
For the yoke loosing your balls,
Don’t miss a moo: It hurts so much.
O’ dumb fish,
Getting a hook to become dish,
Gawp and articulate: It hurts so much.
All who’s alive,
Join the life-long strife,
Let burn the forest, the house, the hutch.
And then, at his bed,
Mortified, slumber-near, almost dead,
Gibber with me for last: It hurts so much.
So, she can hear while alive.
This is what she denied, if worthwhile.
She did restrict it by her own pleasure
Extern and intern
Escaping from living itself
That was his last resort.
Attila József – “Nagyon Fàj” Translated by me from the original Hungarian language.