Hesitant Ode by Miklós Radnóti

How long I’ve been preparing to tell you
About the hidden star system of my love;
Just in one picture maybe and only its essence.
But you are milling and rising in me as the existence
And sometimes you are, you are so sure and everlasting
As the petrified snail shell in the stone.
The moon-striped night is moving above my head
And it’s hunting small dreams which take wing buzzing.
And I can’t tell you yet
What it means to me, that during working
I can feel your protecting glance above my hand.
Similes worth nothing. They strike me and I throw them away.
And I start the whole thing again tomorrow,
As I worth the same as the words worth
In my poem, and because it excites me until that time
When just bones remain from me and some pieces of hair.
You’re tired, and I can also feel, the day was long, –
What can I say yet? The objects are exchanging glances
And praising you, a half piece of sugar is singing
On the table and a honey drop is falling
And as a golden ball, it’s shining on the table.
And an empty water glass is tinkling by itself.
It’s happy because it lives with you. And maybe I will have time yet
To tell you how it is when it waits for you to come.
The dream’s falling darkness keeps you touching,
It flies away then it returns to your brow,
Your sleepy eyes are waving towards me a farewell yet,
Your hair is coming untied, it’s spreading streaming
And you’re falling asleep. The long shadow of your eyelashes is flitting.
Your hand is falling on my pillow: a birch twig falling asleep,
But I’m also sleeping in you, you aren’t different world.
And I can hear right here how the lot
Mysterious, thin, wise lines are changing
In your cool palm.

1943

Translated by Ági Dénes