Light within the Shade: Eight Hundred Years of Hungarian Poetry

From the Cycle “It Twinkles but Disappears”

z su z sa be n e y | 205 From the Cycle “It Twinkles but Disappears” You stop, look round, and turn to step once more through the pearl curtain of the door of being; now visible, now but a shade you walk over the edge of two worlds. You as in falling snow pass hindranceless right through the black-white grid of checking bars. On both worlds pelts each other’s meltingness, impenetrableness. And I don’t know if still in its dark royal shreds the city stands yet, or if the wind lashes the empty fields—I don’t know whether I am receding from or running to you, for in this darkling falling time the world’s collapsing back into its elements. To snow, to dark. There’s no one to rekindle one more winter’s dawn. 1982 ...