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Brooke, Rupert: Felhők (Clouds in Hungarian)

Portre of Brooke, Rupert

Clouds (English)

Down the blue night the unending columns press

In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow,

Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow

Up to the white moon's hidden loveliness.

 

Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless,

And turn with profound gesture vague and slow,

As who would pray good for the world, but know

Their benediction empty as they bless.

 

They say that the Dead die not, but remain

Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth.

I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these,

 

In wise majestic melancholy train,

And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas,

And men, coming and going on the earth.

 

Ocotber 1913



Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotationhttp://www.bartleby.com/232/513.html

Felhők (Hungarian)

Kék éjben húz a nesztelen menet,

s nincs vége, árad, habzik, megtörik;

délnek hajt vagy a hold bájaiig

gomolyogtat fel hófellegeket.

 

S vonulván, olykor társtalan mered

s tétován visszafordul némelyik,

mint ki áldást kér, noha tudja, míg

kart emel: gesztusai üresek.

 

Mondják: nem halnak meg a holtak: ott

csüggnek bújuk-kéjük örökösén.

Szerintem: mint ezek, az égen át

 

vonulnak lassan és ünnepi-mód,

s lesik a holdat, vizek torlatát,

s minket, mint járunk lent a föld színén.



Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotationhttp://irc.sunchat.hu/vers/

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