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I walked up the atticgathered the smothering and abortive refuse
in one big sack waved into the filaments of my heart
I took them to the market
where an old beggar in shreds
took them away for drips of diamonds
I laughed and felt easyand I cried on the way home, I mourned the loss
I will never be the same again
I will be dancing among the clouds and
clawing down into the dirt with my bare hands
until they bleed
until my nails break
embracing the elves within
knowing this one will be me,
stepping out and standing proud -
myself
myself
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Inner conflict is the essense of this one. Very potent, Szelsofa.
Thank you Jason.
Yes, I had the twofold preception of things in my mind while composing this piece.
Here it is in Hungarian (which I translated from English):
A padláson járva
zsákba kötöttem a fojtogató és céltalan maradékot
szívem szalagával átkötve
mind elvittem a piacra
ahol egy rongyos vénséges koldus átvette
gyémánt gyöngyöket adott érte
nevetésem felszabadultan fakadt ki
s hazafelé megsirattam a veszteséget
már sosem leszek ugyanaz a magam
a felhőfoszlányok között fogok táncolni
aki csupasz kézzel ás mélyebbre mint a gyökerek
mígnem vérző kezem
és megrepedt körmöm
s megölelem mind a tündét
rádöbbent, ez is én vagyok,
felszegett fejjel és büszkén állok majd
önmagamban
önmagamban
Just a note on those confusing English homophones:
brake(v)--to stop or slow down, to use the brakes.
break(v)--to crack, split or shatter.
Unfortunately, English has a lot of them. Change brake to break, and we can better appreciate the very interesting imagery in your poem.
Oh sh.t. This is the second time I confuse these words. Thank you, Steve !
Just beautiful!
Your comment is much appreciated. I still have your 'First snow' ringing in my head.
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