Szilárd Borbély Poems

On the platter set out in the center of the Matyó-embroidered tablecloth
was the syringe. And around it was silence. My father
gazed at my mother, and she back at him. Slowly,
...

The human face is capable of expressing approximately
two hundred different emotive states with its mimicry.
An infant is capable of emitting that many
...

Words give us instructions
as to what may be endured.
For everything can be withstood
...

Agathon held a stone in his mouth
for three years, until he learned the art
of silence. When he knew how to be quiet
...

As the flesh tightens across the bone,
so does evening bend into the arch. The weight
hangs upon the string, as the eyelid
...

If I come to Berlin at Easter, would you have an hour to spare,
so that I could visit you? It could be at any time, for I won't
have any other business in Berlin, save our meeting. I hardly
...

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,
...

So may I come to visit? If so, please respond in time
to the following questions: what is your telephone number? Shall I dress
in black, or would it suffice simply to arrive in my summer
...