Meeting Benches World art in all forms
NIGHT’S – Poetry by Petöfi Sándor
Night’s sleep peacefully village and town, moon Light shines the sky, starry. Asleep and you, my jewel, holdes girl sloes eye with blonde hair? I want this night to sleep are not fit, dreaming I lie awake, find no rest, Kingdoms float before my eyes, and the queen in you.Is also stealing a gross sin, if I were to rob now ready what I find in the vault of dreams, to beautify the reality.
THE ETERNAL SHEPHERERD – Poetry by Sándor Kányádi
In memoriam Zaharia Sancu, Romanian poet, they’ve put you in charge of a black-suited herd darie eternal shepherd, you sit on the other side of the great river like you did at one time, by the purling Danube, listening with eyes closed, and from now on you go forever barefoot just as you did as a child, limping to one or another of your helpers from herd to herd you keep reporting, by the melancholy sound of cowbells, you and your fellows keep sending messages with every sunset and with every rise of a full moon, to those still busy shepherding on this side.
AUTUMN PASSED THROUGH PARIS – Poetry by Endre Ady
Autumn sliped into Paris yesterday, came silently down Boulevard St Michel, in sultry heat, past boughs sullen and still, and met me on its way. As I walked on to where the Seine flows by, little twig songs burned softly in my heart, smoky, odd, sombre, purple songs. I thought they sighed that I shall die. Autumn drew abreast and whispered to me, Boulevard St Michel that moment shivered. Rustling, the dusty, playful leaves quivered, whirled forth along the way. One moment: summer took no heed: whereon, laughing, autumn sped away from Paris. That it was here, I alone bear witness, under the trees that moan.
