The Transfiguration Of The Word Poem by Kinga Fabo

The Transfiguration Of The Word

Rating: 4.8

Open, the sea appeared asleep.
Carrying its waves.
A pulse under the muted winter scene.
Throwing a smile on the beach.

A nun-spot on the hot little body.
A color on the broken glass.
A gesture that was once closed.
Lovely as the sea stood up.
Throwing a smile on the beach.

I wanted to remain an object.
But, no, immortality is not mine.
I am too strong to defend myself.
Waiting for punishment.

This and the same happened together.
Silently, I sat in the glass.
Only the spot wandered on the naked scene.
Sounds did not continue.

Only an omitted gesture.
Happiness like an unmoving dancer.
Beatings on naked, bony back.

And the sea will no longer be immortal.
(Translated by Zsuzsanna Ozsváth and Martha Satz)

Thursday, March 24, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: philosophical
Chinedu Dike 01 February 2017

Lovely poem, well articulated and nicely brought forth in good diction with insight. Thanks for sharing Kinga and do remain blessed.

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Kelly Kurt 24 March 2016

A fresh voice on this site. Thank you for sharing with us, Kinga.

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Kinga Fabó 25 March 2016

Thanks for noticing me, Kelly.

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