Hopelessly /detail/, by Attila József, translation

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Slowly, musingly

The man finally reaches
a sandy, sad, watery plane,
he looks around and nodding
His wise head, no more hoping.

Just so I try to look around
without deceit carelessly.
A silver axe swish plays
On the leaves of the poplar tree.

Sitting on the branch of nothingness,
my heart’s little body trembles voiceless,
The stars gather around mildly to see it,
and they keep only watching, watching it.

March 1933

Translation: 10. 02. 2022., by J. W. Cassandra

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J. W. Cassandra

About the Author: J. W. Cassandra

I am a teacher and a registered author either, at Artisjus as a writer and a poet in Hungary. I write from my childhood, in different genres: fantasies, poems, short stories.

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