Ady Endre: With Léda at the ball (Lédával a bálban Angol nyelven)

Sweet tunes haunting the merry hall,
eager couples whirling at the ball,
Lovely perfumes and innocent kisses,
Alarmed are the dancing misses.
 
Handsome lads and rosy lovers gathering,
Gazing in horror at a sombre couple entering
when lightning strikes and thunder
and the throng would frightfully wonder
“Who are they?” -enquiring, terrified, “the dreadful”. 
And so we enter hand in hand, mournful.
 
Our deadly faces masked in dark gauze-veil,
The two of us scatter our withered and frail
once gaily worn rose-wreaths and exhale
the deep and deadly sigh of silence.
 
Music dies amidst the merry ball.
Sudden gusts of icy wind whirl
through the frozen flames of the hall,
amongst the youth that cease to swirl.
But the two of us dance a danse macabre, ghastly
and the startled youth at once fall apart fastly.