Paul Sohar

 

 

 

          FOUR TRANSLATIONS FROM THE HUNGARIAN
 

WHITE

by Sándor Kányádi

Jasmine loam.

Decomposing peals of bells.

Businesslike funeral parlor staff,

horses clattering with indifference.

Why black?

Squeaky, sparkling white

might break the edge of spade

or pickax.

White, let’s have white

in a drunken feast!

Amen.

Copyright © 2003 Sándor Kányádi and Paul Sohar.  All Rights Reserved.

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