Tuesday, 14 April 2015

Deluge - Sándor Kányádi

The broken wings of lightning bolts are
lashing my window.
The deluge is knocking.
I'm listening.
Hay bouquet and sweat of horses,
the smell of newborns;
like a ship, my no-nonsense room is
sailing off with me.

The deluge is rocking me.

Then the flickering shore of memory
sinks into misty brown.
A colt sneezes and the soggy walls
of the barn come tumbling down.

Sándor Kányádi (Born 1929) Hungary
Translated by Paul Sohar

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