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This poem is taken from PN Review 203, Volume 38 Number 3, January - February 2012.

Guard Me and and Protect Me (translated from the Hungarian by Clive Wilmer and George Gömöri) Míklós Radnóti
Now every night the wind blows in my dreams
and with a slapping sound the snow-white sails,
catching the light, grow plump for a long voyage.

I'm writing this slow poem as if someone
who, starting life anew, must bid farewell -
henceforth to write his poems with a stick
on drifting sands in far-off Africa.

But from all over - Africa as well -
...


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