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)
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 -
...
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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