Invalidenstrasse Poem by Szilárd Borbély

[i]

I must speak of my fear. Of the mornings
when I awoke drenched in sweat. After dreams
without memories. And I wanted nothing. Simply to disappear. Silence,
muteness. I didn't know why. Then
it came to me: What would happen, if—? What would happen if
there wouldn't be anything anymore. Everything I'm doing now

I wouldn't have to finish. All of those things
which I don't know how to do. At once to reach
the end. I should like to reach the end. Let there be an end.
I began to desire this. If I would depart. Perhaps then