This website is using cookies

We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. If you continue without changing your settings, we'll assume that you are happy to receive all cookies on this website. 

Baka István: Winter road (Téli út in English)

Portre of Baka István

Winter road (English)

Winter road.  The snow makes squelching sounds
Beneath the mist-felt boots of God.
Flighty moments stiffen into days
Along the roads he trod.
My boots are holed. Tongue of the slush
Is tasting me, it tries to find appeal -
Would I for packs of freezing death
Provide an evening meal?
Crows about me. Gaping yellow beaks,
They move like needles and they start
Stitching side-buttoned shirts of seeding rows,
Then angrily, they take them all apart.
Mother Russia's breast begins to show
With tell-tale blotches of cadaver grey,
Her bely rises like a kurgan mound,
Expanded by the gasses of decay.
Winter road. Loud is the squelching snow
where God walks, takes his ease.
The land... a blanched mouth and its kiss
clings to the boot soles with the freeze.

Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotationL. A. K.