the mystery
is why
attila jozsef
threw himself
under
a train
what i
want to
know is
did he
write a
poem
before he
died i’m
betting he
did &
if so
why didn’t
that save
him or
does poetry
ever save
anyone
& did
he feel
that railroad
iron grind
the poem
into his
blood
Attila Jozsef | April 11, 1905 – December 3, 1937
I’ll Be a Gardener
(Kertesz leszek) by Attila Jozsef, translated from the Hungarian by Paul Sohar
I’ll be a gardener of trees,
with the rising sun I’ll rise
and see to it that none of my
pregnant flowers ever dies.
Pregnant loving flowers will
flock around me in a sea,
and I don’t care [...]
Attila Jozsef | April 11, 1905 – December 3, 1937
THE POOR ARE THE POOREST
(Aki szegeny, az a legszegenyebb) by Attila Jozsef
If God were a scribe and kept
Plying his pen, all he could do,
He couldn’t write a list of all
The sufferings the poor go through.
Poor folks are the poorest of all,
They add their shivers to winter [...]
The Song of a Grieving Hungarian
(Bus Magyar eneke) by Jozsef Attila, translated from the Hungarian by Paul Sohar
A song is flying far a field, on raven wings of evening breeze,
a frayed-faced little man is singing, about the things he sees
around him in a silenced land, a Hungary in a daze,
and about summer slipping off, early [...]
Attila Jozsef | April 11, 1905 – December 3, 1937
With A Pure Heart
Fatherless and motherless,
godless and countryless,
I’m without a crib or coffin,
without a lover to possess.
For the third day I have gone
without a meal of any kind.
My twenty years are worth a soup,
it’s a buyer I must find.
If no one else will purchase them,
I’ll accept [...]
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