Jones, Saeed: Izsák, Mória hegye után (Isaac, After Mount Moriah in Hungarian)

Asleep on the roof when rain comes,
water collects in the dips of his collarbone.
 
Dirty-haired boy, my rascal, my sacrifice. Never
an easy dream. I watch him wrestle my shadow, eyelids
trembling, one fist ready for me.
 
Leave him a blanket, leave him alone.
 
Night before, found him caked in dirt,
sleeping in a ditch; wet black stones for pillows.
 
What kind of father does he make me, this boy
I find tangled in the hair of willows, curled fetal
in the grove?
 
Once, I found him in a far field, the mountain's peak
like a blade above us both.