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Macleod Black, David: A telefon (The Telephone in Hungarian)

Portre of Macleod Black, David
Portre of Répás Norbert

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The Telephone (English)

One afternoon of wind and sun
I heard from on my pierced throne
Above the tumult of the trees
The screaming of the telephone.

And though love's bitter-sweet had all
Come back I neither thought nor made
A slightest motion; till the long
Enquiring scream went still and dead.

Uploaded byRépás Norbert
PublisherPublished by True Books (5 Kensington Church Walk London, W8), Printed by Villers Publications Ltd. (Ingestre Road, London, NW5)
Source of the quotationA Dozen Short Poems by D.M.Black
Bookpage (from–to)11-11
Publication date

A telefon (Hungarian)

Egy szeles-napos délután
lyukas trónomról neszezek,
telefon sikolya zúgó
fáknál felettébb nyekereg.

Bár vágy mind keserv'édes volt,
jer vissza, hisz ötlet, képzet
sem moccant bennem; amíg nyúlt
vágy-jajt el nem vitt a végzet.

Uploaded byRépás Norbert
Source of the quotationtranslator