To Tamás Cholnoky
Over my head the stars above
are stirring frosty fires,
under the merciless grey sky
against the wall I recline.
Sadness trickles wavering
from my abandoned mouth.
What’s become of mother’s milk?
I’m besmirching my coat.
Like a stone, that’s what I am,
no matter what, just let it come.
I’ll be obedient, so good,
I’ll tumble on the floor dumb.
I deceive myself no more,
there’s no one to help me,
no redemption by any pain,
no god can protect me.
Nothing on earth can there be
simpler or ghastlier -
slowly coming towards me
biblical monsters appear.
