By Cricket, Translation

Who will carry love over by László Nagy, translation by Peter Szabo My soul if at last for ever sinks, who will love the cricket- violins? Who’ll breath flames on frosty branch? on rainbows who’ ll be forever stretched? Who will love crying the rock- hips silently to become soft lumped...

Mushflower, elderflower By Andras Ferenc Kovacs ( Translated by Peter Szabo) Blind-nettle’s hair begins to grow, Mushflower among elderflower, Leafy time’s bringing chattering Blackbirds on pasture together. Branch moves, buzzes the air, In the green the morning wakes, Field,...