Attila Jozsef Poems

No shriek of mine, it is the earth that thunders.
Beware, beware, Satan has gone insane;
...

If you set out in this world,
better be born seven times.
Once, in a house on fire,
once, in a freezing flood,
...

I am alone on these glittering crags.
A sinuous breeze
floats delicious, the infant summer's
...

Slowly, musingly,

I am as one who comes to rest
by that sad, sandy, sodden shore
...

Kívül-belôl
leselkedó halál elöl
(mint lukba megriadt egérke)
...

Harminckét éves lettem én --
meglepetés e költemény
csecse
becse:
...

On Mama now my thoughts have dawdled
all of a week. Clothes-basket cradled
creaked on her hip; she'd climb the stairway
...

What will become of him, whoever
has got no handle to his hoe,
upon whose whiskers crumbs don't quiver,
who dawdles, gloomy, thrawn, and slow;
...

Harminchat fokos lázban égek mindig
s te nem ápolsz, anyám.
Mint lenge, könnyû lány, ha odaintik,
...

And so I've found my native country,
that soil the gravedigger will frame,
where they who write the words above me
...