I'd been thinking
it would tear me
but the good news is
the wound's not lethal;
sword lilies bloom
on dug graves and
I'm writing the date
on all the stones today;
The time has come,
giving eternal hope,
the ruling beast
is leaving my soul,
a tame leopard…
the main memory:
can time so bring
us a dance still;
You honey-fragrant lady:
a lovely tiara,
or chrysanthemum
lying on my urn:
I would be so happy
to hold your hands;
kiss me again:
My lost fair Johanna!
(This poem is a translation of my original hungarian) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem