You can only bear loneliness being alone.
That is the spell. I utter just it and it starts.
A thunder hits the rented room,
a fingerwide crack runs through the wall,
desire strikes roots,
as soon as it reaches me I know it will hit my heart sparkling,
trees will twist,
roads get entangled
among ancient grass making a yellow hiss,
the Sun bleeds metal plates,
the Earth turns within itself
digesting the debris,
breathing in the scent of your hair,
waving the tense rhythm of your thighs
in the night falling on Kökörcsin Street,
that’s when I spot the gray stranger,
he points at me and says look around,
everything has tumbled down around you,
that’s all you are, an aesthetic killer,
thinking corps, so
be prepared, because this is not a dream,
don’t ask from where you could call back yourself
so that the whip of light hits you properly,
what kind of order of surrender you should follow
when your memories abandon you,
because there is no turning back from here,
you have stolen the light wrapped in poems
from your loved ones,
and I bet that even now, in your final hour
you are sitting writing a poem
so that you might revoke the curse,
you dragonheart poet,
frustrated vampire.


(Translated by Barbara Bércesi)