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September 4, 2010

Ady Endre

(Hungarian,  November 22, 1877 - January 27, 1919)
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PÁRISBAN JÁRT AZ ŐSZ

Párisba tegnap beszökött az Ősz.
Szent Mihály útján suhant nesztelen,
Kánikulában, halk lombok alatt
S találkozott velem.

Ballagtam éppen a Szajna felé
S égtek lelkemben kis rőzse-dalok:
Füstösek, furcsák, búsak, bíborak,
Arról, hogy meghalok.

Elért az Ősz és súgott valamit,
Szent Mihály útja beleremegett,
Züm, züm: röpködtek végig az úton
Tréfás falevelek.

Egy perc: a Nyár meg sem hőkölt belé
S Párisból az Ősz kacagva szaladt.
Itt járt, s hogy itt járt, én tudom csupán
Nyögő lombok alatt.

[Ady Endre összes költeményei]



André Kertész: Un poeme de Ady
 ['Párisban járt az ősz' ( Itt járt az ősz )]
(Source)


AUTUMN PASSED THROUGH PARIS

Autumn slipped into Paris yesterday,
came silently down Boulevard St Michel,
In sultry heat, past boughs sullen and still,
and met me on its way.

As I walked on to where the Seine flows by,
little twig songs burned softly in my heart,
smoky, odd, sombre, purple songs. I thought
they sighed that I shall die.

Autumn drew abreast and whispered to me,
Boulevard St Michel that moment shivered.
Rustling, the dusty, playful leaves quivered,
whirled forth along the way.

One moment: summer took no heed: whereon,
laughing, autumn sped away from Paris.
That it was here, I alone bear witness,
under the trees that moan.

Translated by Doreen Bell



[Hundred Hungarian Poems, Albion Editions, Manchester, 1976]


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AUTUMN SLIPPED INTO PARIS

Autumn slipped into Paris yesterday,
gliding silently down Rue Saint Michel,
beneath the noonday Dog and hush of trees
she met me with her spell.

I had been sauntering toward the Seine;
small-fry kindling-songs smouldered in my head,
purple and pensive, strange and smokey-hued;
that I'll soon die, they said.

Then autumn whispered something from behind.
The road of Saint Michel began to shake.
Wish, wish - the jesting leaves arose in swirls
along the gusty wake.

One moment - summer had not even blenched,
and autumn fled away with mocking ease.
She came, but that she came, alone I knew
beneath the moaning trees.

Translated by Anton N. Nyerges and Adam Makkai


[In Quest of the 'Miracle Stag': The Poetry of Hungary]


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ADY Endre
Fotó: Székely Aladár
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