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    Silent still, silent again is the world at large: No rose-dawn shall comfort the dead, As the morning that wakes our dreams, when I wake! I listen to the dawn-whistle of bouncing car-seats all day long - In vain do the dull thinkers curse and curse one another 

    I would gently whisper my love and confession in the tantalizing tunnels of your ears, forever with you! They are still comatose in the lamp-light. In the open palms of the nesting valleys, the slumbering village yawns mightily! In the hunting lodge of Mátraszentimre, one saw a nimble deer-eyed angel nimbly dancing his fluttering heartbeats! 

    I should have loved someone again: his swaying slumber in the shelter of dunnas, the measured firmness of his steps in the kitchen, and listened to his heart's delicate piano hammering gracefully over its tiny keys! Once the miracle has happened, perhaps it may come again! And helpless loser-miserable people need not perpetually chase the vanities of self-pity, which threaten only their perpetually helpless selves anyway, but will again:

    Human stars selflessly giving smiles, help, emotion, breathing earth-hearts, resurrection-seeking thumps that we can look up to, at any time, with courage, for they comfort us with their emotional charges, our actions!

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