May 2011
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I dream of coloured inks (Mostan színes tintákról...
I dream of coloured inks. Of every kind.
The yellow is the finest. Reams and reams of letters could I write in yellow ink to her, the little schoolgirl of my dreams. I’d scrawl something that looks like Japanese, then try a bird, most intricately scrolled. And I want other colours, many more, like bronze and silver, emerald and gold, and then I want a hundred more, a thousand, or rather, I...
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Dawnstruck (excerpt) by Kosztolányi Dezső
Struck by the sight I cried and cried again in my delight: “They have a ball in heaven, every night!” There shone in that enchanted radiance an ancient secret I could clearly sense: the stars go home at dawn, along immense bright boulevards of skyborne continents.
I waited till daybreak, motionless, inebriated. And then I asked myself: where have you been, to what disgraceful...
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Dawnstruck ("Hajnali részegség", 1933) by... →
Please read this poem: it is one of the most beautiful impressions in the universal history of poetry. An excellent English translation, by the way.
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