Pull the stake, let the boat go.
There’s no need to paddle, wise currents in the deep
thinking of catfish, bass, but if you picture all this,
you’ll get in a slimy, clammy mood,
and you can start running again whoknowswhere.
The current swallows past, does not spit future.
You may sit up on this wave, if you like.
The tangle is dancing in liquid opal,
tempting image, but don’t picture it,
let its shells and fish live,
don’t play safe like an unscrupulous angler.
So, we left off where you pull the stake,
forget, forget, forget, forget says the water,
all the pictures you once held on to in your mind
start to dissolve,
the childhood house at lake Balaton is collapsing,
smoke vipers start growing out of grandma’s hair,
Christmas trees, maypoles, poplars are burning,
a blackandwhite street in Buda is soaking off like a stamp,
you have pulled the stake, the fang of life,
so let temptation prevail making you believe that
there is someone waiting for you on the forgotten island,
you can feel her, but you can never see her,
for she keeps forgetting, she has already,
whatever happens, she is going to stand on the shore,
where only a shipwreck could take you.

Translated by: Barbara Bércesi