Meeting Benches World art in all forms
FORGIVE THE MOON
Sour, mutilates, over large areas, perhaps the tenth time so, as a clumsy stripped wanderer, passing the Moon. On its face, the tired smile of old rascals, and under her, the camp gets up with a sentence that is lost in sighs. plain covered with wounds, sterile and lean, in a subdued light, ironic, the moon bathes his body and sprinkle again unmade. In the cold light is a big lying dead. But upon its edge away, timid traveler, his man makes a girl. As if Death had never passed, the Life, this torso snapped, lifting his head with a viper’s joy. And the Moon, since it was sent to earth to watch the kisses, here, rays trusting and joyful, and sends his forgiveness percent mortal sins.
(Endre Ady)
