Hunting in Ephesus (text)

Dance’s speeding up, shade’s gliding
In regular circle around each other
Some moves seem to be spontaneous
But it’s just the outside, inside it tenses,
That slightly masked emotion
The question is that where and who does mistake?
Who’ll be the hunter? Who’ll be the prey?
Is that possible to vanquish
And even keep the human in us?
And what may?
Whether will the other step across our built limits of existence?
Which one of us will be the first to say that “You are the world to me”?

 

Between the ruins lurks a prize, it covered itself with a cloak of silence.
It doesn’t aim to the body with its arrow.
The tearing of the blood, the wound, and the flesh is just like the summer plumpness that comes suddenly and dashes away, that becomes a memory like a marble pillar in the middle of swamp.

 

In the tenuous web of spaces timeless signs weave the metaphors of our fallen loneliness.
Like glinting sunbeam on the point of a knife; identical.
However, it’s more, it’s different.
There are strength and movement,
Upraised hand, voiceless words,
Vibrating black and gold, and the eternally haunting blue of our common ways
The vision of happiness that the enclosed world’s chasing where there is no up and down, neither right nor left.
We’re identical in our pains
Us… tempting the impossible gallantly those who want to talk to someone else
From soul to soul on the endless space’s desperately frozen ocean
Man and woman. Master and follower. The desires are chasing love.
The dissolving of the soul.

To tell our secret until it’s possible and there is any ear that hears and any heart that receives.
“There’s something that is visible only with blindfold eyes.”
To feel aboriginal forces’ sweeping that weaves over all what exists.
Our palm’s fervent touch is to be afforded magnanimously.
Don’t ask for anything, just receive and give something good and gentle every day.
Our words are interweaving.
Our faces superposing, double fiery tongues sit above us invisibly and we carry Eve’s eternal principle inside
On the borderline of the Substance and the Spirit, Life strains to bear its unfaithful child into the world, the human soul’s demonic, numbly stagnant existence in the swooning charm of a secret golden age.

Maybe it’s the numbers of breasts, maybe the testicles of bulls on the altar.
Between extinct ages’ enigmatical reminiscences there is a meandering, martyred sacrificial animal.
Our hopeless love: Artemis.
With unprotected, naked heart I have become like a child…
My days fall into nights…
Then the sun comes up again, torturer, burning sun…
The stones tear my feet to bleed, the snubs burn into my flesh, my tongue’s crying for Water…
I have no desires of the world.
I wander on bare fields like a stray, tortured pilgrim in his threadbare mantle who ambles onwards…
Ambles through ten thousand nights and ten thousand days
Because he must go… the distance calls; “The undiscovered country” to where every travelers will be converted.
The wind, the word, the hope call him to there, over the hill, yes there is waiting that Land for him where all the fugitives will find their home.
So I am going along… alone, alone but never lonely because as the cockle is protected by its shell… enclosed as God’s unspeakable chime entwines me.

 

Past folds up, future unfolds
Now I leave hold of troubles
Past folds up, future unfolds
I leave hold of unrealities
Past folds up, future unfolds
I leave hold of my wrong reminiscences
Past folds up, future unfolds
I leave hold of my past loves
Past folds up, future unfolds
Now I leave hold of my pains
Past folds up, future unfolds
Now I leave hold of my failures
Past folds up, future unfolds
Now I leave hold of my sins
Past folds up, future unfolds
Now I leave hold of my wrong issues
Past folds up, future unfolds
Now I leave hold of my self-reproaches
Past folds up, future unfolds
I leave hold of my selfish longings
Past folds up, future unfolds
I stop the fights inside
Past folds up, future unfolds
Now I leave hold of myself

The period of doubts expired, certainties are there now
Desires, satisfaction, the pleasure of existing together
It has been swept away by the flow, all the maimed torsos of our self-realization that left here from the shades of past
There’s no questing of way anymore
We are the way,
Our footprints incorporated
In the river’s lush sludge

Past folded up, future unfolds
I accept the happiness
Past folded up, future unfolds
I accept the reality
Past folded up, future unfolds
I accept my good reminiscences
Past folded up, future unfolds
I accept my future loves
Past folded up, future unfolds
Now I accept my pleasures
Past folded up, future unfolds
Now I accept my victories
Past folded up, future unfolds
Now I accept my right issues
Past folded up, future unfolds
I accept my virtues
Past folded up, future unfolds
I accept forgiveness
Past folded up, future unfolds
I accept the wish of good
Past folded up, future unfolds
I take my real face
Past folded up, future unfolds
Now I accept myself

Translated by: Beatrix Nagy