LITERAL COLLECTION

I have become, though defenceless on all sides, as a helpless cog in the wheels of Shehnona, daily grinding my shipwrecked life. From all sides they call me: 'Say? Was it worth it?! And if so, what will happen next?!" - I would count on human, patronizing hands to divert from my head The noxious, weedy cares of clouds; My two pillars of support are fast left behind! Who knows! 

Perhaps they were well-earned gold forints, or must have been rightfully guaranteed career-building out of the spiral chains of existence! They thought: It's always been easier and more rewarding for you alone! - While the haunting moonlight stood firm above my head, I could rest easy in my heartbeat. 

Now in pitch-black cell-grid night Like lepers punished lonely, ugly. My stubborn stubbornness and my friends - they once sheltered me. On the wall of my study, a motion-capture graphite drawing - a safe haven not to be underestimated. Halfway through the shadows of barren nights, my cold-water bath is delayed, when the click of silence secretly merges with another, more humid echo, and harmony is born. 

In an end-of-the-world, spleen-moment, my tearful, useless eyes flicker fearfully: how pitifully few are all the stumbling countdowns. Petty hopes, however woven, are always wasted and hopeless, as if the atomic bomb or the instant heart attack could be stopped at any moment! 

There's always a buzzing inside, a loophole. Piles the size of plums grow on it: I brush my teeth and think: is that all?! Will there be a One-False beside me, who will accept my inveterate almsgiving, for I myself cannot yet know the end of my long journey. And if at least I may be banished from joy, and if happiness may lay another trap against me, may I remain a Man in the last minute!