József Attila: (Ime, hát megleltem hazámat…)

Behold I have found my land…, by Attila József (11/04. 1905 – 03/12. 1937), Hungarian poet, my favourite. The poem was written 24. Nov. 1937, this is one of his last poems. In Hungary we celebrate the Day of Poetry today, on his birthday. He lived from his very childhood in immense poverty in Budapest, his father abandoned the family and his 3 children. The poets mother had to give the child to foster parents in his 3-year-old age, to a rural environment among peasants for some years – it was a common fate at that time for a lot of people in the era of the Great Depression – and the foster family hate and chased him. The greatest hurt was for the child Attila József that they grabbed from him even his name Attila, saying, “there isn’t such a name like Attila”. And they called him “Pista” that is a short form for Stephen, about “Steve”. This is what the row “Where my name’s cut without a fault” refers to. Other features of his life you can see in this link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attila_Jzsef Source of the quotation: https://www.babelmatrix.org/works/hu/Jzsef_Attila-1905/Ime_ht_megleltem_hazmat/en/31105-Behold_I_have_found_my_land… And http://www.mathstat.dal.ca The translation is work of Vernon Watkins. I have recently a little spare time, because of this, I share a translation that is not mine. I will share here the Hungarian, original version written by the original Hungarian orthography of that time, as well. The photo is mine, on the bank of the river Danube, next to the buildings of the Parliament, Budapest, Hungary.

1 Like Comment

Behold I have found my land…, by Attila József

Behold I have found my land…, by Attila József (11/04. 1905 – 03/12. 1937), Hungarian poet, my favourite. The poem was written 24. Nov. 1937, this is one of his last poems. In Hungary we celebrate the Day of Poetry today, on his birthday. He lived from his very childhood in immense poverty in Budapest, his father abandoned the family and his 3 children. The poets mother had to give the child to foster parents in his 3-year-old age, to a rural environment among peasants for some years – it was a common fate at that time for a lot of people in the era of the Great Depression – and the foster family hate and chased him. The greatest hurt was for the child Attila József that they grabbed from him even his name Attila, saying, “there isn’t such a name like Attila”. And they called him “Pista” that is a short form for Stephen, about “Steve”. This is what the row “Where my name’s cut without a fault” refers to. Other features of his life you can see in this link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attila_Jzsef Source of the quotation: https://www.babelmatrix.org/works/hu/Jzsef_Attila-1905/Ime_ht_megleltem_hazmat/en/31105-Behold_I_have_found_my_land… And http://www.mathstat.dal.ca The translation is work of Vernon Watkins. I have recently a little spare time, because of this, I share a translation that is not mine. I will share here the Hungarian, original version written by the original Hungarian orthography of that time, as well. The photo is mine, on the bank of the river Danube, next to the buildings of the Parliament, Budapest, Hungary.

2 Likes Comment

The Sun

Every time I wake up it makes me so happy to have the Sun above my head. The best thing about going to the beach is the suntan. But sunblock is important too.

7 Likes 9 Comments
I Have A Plan | A Dansa Poem by Ritika Nahata at UpDivine

I Have A Plan | A Dansa Poem

Dansa is an Occitan Poem that has a fixed rhyme scheme and no set meter. It is a poem that starts with a quintain and followed by quatrains. This poem is about the mysterious plan of the speaker.

I Have A Plan | A Dansa Poem by Ritika Nahata at UpDivine
14 Likes 1 Comment

The Almond Flowers And the Bald Tree, by J. W. Cassandra

The Almond Flowers And the Bald Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. I share here my today poem, written at first in English, then in Hungarian. Of course, I haven’t placed it in any of my volumes, yet. The photos are own shots of town Szekesfehervar, Hungary, the spring trees. I hope, you will like it. I will share it in Hungarian, as well.

11 Likes Comment

J. W. Cassandra: A mandulaág és a csupasz fa

The Almond Flowers And the Bald Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. I share here my today poem, written at first in English, then in Hungarian. Of course, I haven’t placed it in any of my volumes, yet. The photos are own shots of town Szekesfehervar, Hungary, the spring trees. I hope, you will like it. I will share it in Hungarian, as well.

4 Likes Comment

From the Inside

Something different this time round, a little shorter than I usually write.

11 Likes Comment

Time and Chimes

If you’re going to waste your time. You should think about refusing to listen to those sounds of wind chimes.

10 Likes Comment

Natural Disaster

My struggles with balancing my chronic illness and mental health.

11 Likes Comment

No Thursday Dinner

Something I wrote in a fit of sadness that washed over me while thinking about my parents divorce.

7 Likes Comment

Fool

The rage I feel when being lied to.

6 Likes Comment

Legends

Written after the verdict of Belfast Crown Court, 28 March 2018. Posted in UpDivine on 25 March 2021. https://www.thejournal.ie/rugby-rape-trial-10-3925775-Mar2018/

8 Likes Comment

My soul

Did you asked yourself, “Who am I?” or “What your soul look like?” or “Is there something like Astral Dimension?” Who knows! But here’s what I thought….

8 Likes 1 Comment

Chronic Needles

I have a chronic illness called Type 1 Diabetes-it gets really hard sometimes.

5 Likes Comment

I Can Never Win

That feeling of being trapped in a box of never ending sadness.

Like Comment