There is a poetry of Hungarian literature is not well known, but I was very impressed by the intensity that the author provides not only in words but also in the structure. It is for books like this that I came up with the idea of \u200b\u200bcombining words and passions. I'm cercando ancora che può essere la più vicino form all'originale today, ho scoperto che secondo cambio la lettura dei esperienze diverse from Latvia. È proprio per questa Poesia Aperto il blog che ho: Piccole scoperte per condividere, e capi Quante facce Hann. Dunque di seguito il testo e traduzione tre (una già pubblicata) della Poesia di Kosztolányi desi ...
my wife ...
Megszoktalak, from the air,
everywhere I look, everywhere you are,
closet at the bottom of the accounts distinct, the
agyvelőmben and veszlek not noticed.
But last night when they came in
my room and said something to me,
sok év utan egyszerre rácsudtam,
hogy itt vagy, és sem szavadra figyelve
ámulva néztelek. Szemem lehunytam.
EZT hajtogattam csöndesen magamban:
"megszoktam ot, Akar to levegőt.
or Adja nékem to lélegzetet."
1931
TO MY WIFE ...
to you as I am used to the air.
Wherever I look, everywhere you are there
in my drawers, in my objects,
in my brain, and I perceive you.
But the other night,
when you came into my room, and you told me something,
suddenly, years later, wonder!,
that you're here, and not paying attention to the words
I looked at you with amazement. I closed my eyes.
In silence I kept saying this:
"as she got used to the air.
is she who gives me breath."
TO MY WIFE
To me you're like the air I breathe, I'm used
. Wherever you are
look at the closet, in drawers,
in my brain, and I do not notice you.
But the other night,
when you came into my room and said something,
suddenly I realized, after many years
, you're here. Regardless
to your speech, I looked stunned.
And with his eyes closed, silently repeating
to myself: "My breath is her, she got used to
, as air. "
A MY WIFE ...
How are you accustomed to air.
Wherever I look, everywhere you are there
in my drawers, in my objects
in my brain, and I realize you do not.
But the other night when my room
you joined you, and you told me something,
suddenly, years later, wonder,
that you're here, and not paying attention to the words
I watched with amazement. I closed my eyes.
In silence I kept saying this:
"as you are accustomed to air.
is she who gives me breath. "
