Psalm that rings true through the ages

"When I said, “My foot is slipping,”
your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me,
your consolation brought me joy."

Psalm 94:18-19

poems

what makes this paper
so eager
to receive these words?

like a tattoo that remains
after the challenge
of a drunken haze

it's us
whose troubled hearts
need to express themselves

at the cost of possible
later embarassment

Turning Autumn

I haven't done translations in a while, so it's about time...

Original. Song 1. Song 2.

Turning     Autumn
Fading      bothers
Storm may   shake me
I've two    daughters

One a       birch
The other   aspen
In my       old trunk
It'd been   written

Turning     Autumn
Fading      bothers
Crown is    trembling:
I've two    daughters

One a       birch
The other   aspen
Perhaps I   won't be
Left     forsaken

My crown up to the
Sky it      withers
Turning     Autumn
I've two    daughters

hope 3

fear turned into questioning

what's the point of it all?

contentment? I plead.

for me, for others, for all.

with others. with him.

oh, your imaginary friend

yes, my imaginary friend

so you concede he's imaginary

yes, in as much as I imagine him

I haven't seen, so I imagine

not imagined, but imaginary. not real. non-existent.

in as much as an imaginary number is non-existent,

but it makes things work. it makes things complete.

a trick then

yes, a trick. take me and three other i.

together, they make 1, a whole

how droll. but that's not a proof

I gave up proofs long ago

instead I keep my feet on the ground

while my soul soars 

and if deeper magic exists

deeper then my shame and wrongs

we will end up in the same place.

fear left me for a while

by the bank of a river called

hope

hope 2

fear visited me again
grabbed me by my throat
asked me to declare
what's important and what's not

frozen
not scorched

thawing
in thanks,
in sighing,
in hope

hope 1

in the valley of death
death sets upon itself
and what life remains
can flower and be all life

all that you had dreamed imagined
were forelighted to fruition
and all hope
and all delight

he allowed it
he willed it
to come

from the smell of a football pitch
to that corner that secret wish
that heart's treasure
those wings to soar

a breeze
a kiss
a drizzle
a sound

they're all the same
when set in motion by the same

you daren't say it
you asked for too much
you asked for too little

but at night you hadn't rest
you dreamt the rest
no more details left out
this time you were thorough

all of it
life
bliss
peace

if you couldn't believe
you at least dared to dream

and with such dreams
who would dare
not to believe

there you go
you talked too much
you talked too little

all seems babble
but who stops
a restless heart

'til it finds
what makes it beat
with every hope

Half a chance

Given half a chance

Most of us would be good

But we seldom give ourselves

Seldom allow ourselves

Half a chance

To be good

"They could not rid themselves of their sins, but they could set about sending them away; they could quarrel with them, and proceed to turn them out of the house: the Lord was on his way to do his part in their final banishment." The Hope of the Gospel by George MacDonald.

The Gate

When i had finished
closing all the small doors
the Gate I had longed for
opened.

To a lost friend

tell me

when did we learn to speak past each other so well?

the silence getting uncomfortably loud

the beats clashing like cymbals 

two gears just the right distance apart

to break each other's teeth

and then; again: I spoke for too long

tell me

is it me

who's growing gray and dull inside?

To a lost city

Oxford

truth be told

will always be

my second home

that summer chalet

far and near

more than a shield

more than a sword

youth in the spring

a story long told

something borrowed

something blue

something to lose

to find her anew

To a Lost Country

The fog of anger

The fog of hurt

The fog of power

The fog of evil

Clouds

Clouds

---------------------

But among the fog

Evil does not see

The plants rising

Hide and Seek

one,

did he hide inside men's hearts?

two,

my heart has creatures 

three,

i dare not disturb

four,

and who knows,

five,

which one he's hiding behind?

six,

or is he hiding in plain sight

seven,

our eyes too focused on infinity to see him?

eight,

is our imagination too vivid

nine,

or our senses too numb

ten,

to know whether there's anything,

anyone, hiding at all?

here I come!

Magyar Thoughts

Dear Readers,

I appreciate all the views to this blog so far.
As you will have noticed, I haven't been so active lately.
My original plan had been to primarily translate Hungarian poems, but over the years the balance has tilted towards my own poems. And now I have a couple of thoughts that are not necessarily best expressed in poetic form.

So my plan is this: hopefully I will still publish poems here, and hopefully many of these will be translations. But for my short thoughts, I will use a new blog: magyarthoughts.blogspot.com. So that for those of you who are more interested in poems, I do not "spam" you with my not-necessarily-poetic thoughts.

Best,
mc losh

Clarity

What's more sobering
peaceful
adventurous
joyful
challenging
dreadful
yearning
hopeful
a clear day
to twisting night
than life itself?