Nemes Nagy Ágnes: Vihar
Vihar (Magyar)
Egy ing rohan a réten.
Ott futnak ők. A vásznak.
Kilépek én, bár mozdulatlan,
Utánuk nem marad
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Storm (Angol)A shirt blows across the field
Freed from a clothes-horse at the height of an Equinox, stumbling now above Saint Swithin's Grass it is the bodiless dance of a veteran. And there they go, the sheets running under the recoil of lightning in battalion manoeuvres even as they flee - flags, sheets, a top-sail, a rag - each ripped to its own hissing sound on the open green field diving and rising their movement unveils the winding sheets of mass-graves. Without moving, I step outside my contour, a somewhat more transparent runner body taut behind among them like a half-wit whose birds have flown like a naked tree whose birds have flown calling them back with my beckoning arms - And now they fall. And with a motion white-winged, wide, the entire flock takes wing as one, takes wing like an unmoving image takes wing like the bodily resurrection, eternity called up from the water, at the crack of a gun. Nothing left in the field but that beckon and the dark green colour of the grass. A pond. |