"I thought of your heart as a small candle, which is happy even for a fly - now I feel, in pitch darkness, that it is surrounded by a forest of flames. I'm cold, there's not even a faint breath, everything is bare, dry, dead. Now that your love is running out, I only know now: how much it was.
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Author
Weöres SándorAll Translations
All Translations
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I thought of your heart as a small candle, which is happy even for a fly - now I feel, in pitch darkness, that it is surrounded by a forest of flames. I'm cold, there's not even a faint breath, everything is bare, dry, dead. Now that your love is running out, I only know now: how much it was.
""Szívedet kis mécsnek véltem, mely egy légynek is örül - most érzem csak, vaksötétben, hogy lángerdő vett körül. Fázom, nincs egy langy lehellet, minden puszta, pőre, holt. Most, hogy elfogy a szerelmed, most tudom csak: mennyi volt."