Berzsenyi Dániel: A közelítő tél
A közelítő tél (Magyar)
Hervad már ligetünk, s díszei hullanak,
As winter approaches (Angol)
Our withering forest is losing its ornaments.
Yellow leaves rattle among its bare shrubs.
There’s no rosy labyrinth, Zephyr does not swing
Through the balsamic scents.
There’s no more symphony, the turtle-dove does not coo
Between the green bowers and the stream’s violet valley
Is not fragrant under the willow’s leaves,
Its surface is overgrown with rough coppice.
Silent twilight lours on the mountain peak.
Not a cluster smiles on the deep red vine-shots.
Delight’s joyful harmonies have been here once:
Where all is upsetting and dying now.
Oh fluttering time flies by so rapidly,
And all of its creatures hover around his passing wing!
All is just a phenomenon, all things under the sky,
Such like the tiny forget-me-not, fade.
Little by little buds on my wreath perish,
Beautiful spring leaves me behind, yet my lips have never tasted
Its nectar, yet I have just touched
Some of its first blossoms.
My splendid youth leaves me behind and returns nevermore.
Another spring could not revive it!
Any more than Lolli’s brown eyebrows
Could wink my ever-closed eyes!