Endre Ady (November 22, 1877 - January 27, 1919) was a Hungarian poet
Ady was born in Érmindszent, Szilágy county (part of Austria-Hungary at the time; now a village in Satu Mare County, Romania, called Adyfalva in Hungarian and Ady Endre in Romanian). He belonged to an impoverished noble family. Endre was the elder of two children.
Between 1892-1896, he attended a Protestant... more »
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Endre Ady Poems
I Should Love To Be Loved
I am neither infant nor happy grandfather Nor parent, nor lover Of anyone, of anyone. I am, as every man is, Majesty,
I Guard Your Eyes
With my old man's wrinkled hand, with my old man's squinting eyes, let me hold your lovely hand, let me guard your lovely eyes.
Longing For Love
Neither the issue nor the sire, neither fulfilment nor desire am I for anyone, am I for anyone.
Because You Love Me
Your eyes are mirrors of blessed marvels, for they have seen me; you are the mistress,
Who Come From Far Away
We are the men who are always late, we are the men who come from far away. Our walk is always weary and sad, we are the men who are always late.
Memory Of A Summer Night
An angry angel hurled from the heavenly height Drumroll alarms onto the sombre earth, Hundreds of stars burnt out their light,
Autumn Passed Through Paris
Autumn sliped into Paris yesterday, came silently down Boulevard St Michel, In sultry heat, past boughs sullen and still,
I Am The Son Of King Gog Of Magog
I am the Son of King Gog of Magog(1) I'm banging doors and walls to no avail - yet I must ask this question as prologue:
Letter Of Dismissal
Let break the charm that broke the hundredth time. You are dismissed once more and for the very last
Héja-nász Az Avaron (Hawk Mating On The...
Útra kelünk. Megyünk az Ôszbe, Vijjogva, sírva, kergetôzve, Két lankadt szárnyú héja-madár.
The Lost Rider
We hear the blind and aimless galloping Of an errant rider from the days gome by: The shackled souls of sunken forests moan
A Peacock Takes Its Perch
'A peacock takes its perch upon the county hall – A sign that freedom comes to many folk in thrall.'
Behold My Treasures, Darling
Behold my treasures, darling, they are less than a Biblical farthing, behold the fate of a true and faithful life,
On Elijah's Chariot
The Lord summons Elijah-like those whom he truly loves and tries. He gives them racing, fiery hearts, the flaming chariots of the skies.
Comments about Endre Ady
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
I Should Love To Be Loved
I am neither infant nor happy grandfather
Nor parent, nor lover
Of anyone, of anyone.
I am, as every man is, Majesty,
The North Pole, the Secret, the Stranger,
The will-o'-the-wisp in the distance, the will-o'-the-wisp in the distance.
But alas! I cannot remain this way.
I should like to show myself to the world,
So that someone sees me, so that someone sees me.
This is why I sing and I torment myself.
I should love to be loved.
I wish to be of someone, I wish to be of someone.