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 by | Répás Norbert |
| Publisher | Published by True Books (5 Kensington Church Walk London, W8), Printed by Villers Publications Ltd. (Ingestre Road, London, NW5) |
| Source of the quotation | A Dozen Short Poems by D.M.Black |
| Bookpage (from–to) | 11-11 |
| Publication date | 1968 |
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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. |
