Omar Khajjám: 200. rubáí

Lélekben a tegnapoknak élned: butaság,
előre a holnapoktól félned: butaság,
ábrándban a megváltást remélned: butaság,
légy boldog, a percet elvetélned: butaság.

Denise Duhamel: Buddhist Barbie

In the 5th century B.C.
an Indian philosopher
Gautama teaches "All is emptiness"
and "There is no self."
In the 20th century A.D.
Barbie agrees, but wonders how a man
with such a belly could pose,
smiling, and without a shirt.

Holly Hughes: At the Teahouse, 6 am

Sunrise at the octagonal hut;
beyond, where two decks meet,
a lizard does pushups in the sun.
I see the green, chattering world
through the window, I see
my image in the window.
Both are present; are both true?
A bee enters the hut, buzzes
insistently against the window,
but the window won't yield
to his wishes.  I want to
show him the open door,
say this world through the glass
is only an illusion but I don't.
How long will he hurl himself
against the dusty glass?  How long
will we believe we are not free?

Simonyi Imre: Levél barátomhoz

Tudod
egy napon majd
mindent megbocsát az ember.
(Csak épp
semmit el nem felejt.)
- És ezen a napon
az ember megöregszik.

S egy napon majd
megtudja az ember
hogy mindenki közelebb áll a másikhoz

mint hozzá bárki is.
És ezen a napon
megérti hogy magányos.
- És azt hiszi hogy meghasad a szíve.

Aztán eljön az a nap is
amikor az ember már képes
a dolgoknak pontosan akkora
fontosságot tulajdonítani
amekkorát valójában megérnek.
S akkor a dolgokat
mellékes mozdulattal
- anélkül hogy meghasadna a szíve -
leírja a kiadás rovatba.

Ám ezen a napon valamiképp
körülbelül vége is a világnak.

St. Francis of Assisi: Prayer Of Peace

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Debbie Parvin: Peacemaker

She never lit a candle in a vigil.
She never raised a voice for human rights.
She slept on public benches in the summer--
In basement shelters on cold, winter nights.

She never held a sign and demonstrated.
She moved no one to action with her words,
But in the park each day, by roaring traffic,
She knelt to share her bread crumbs with the birds.

Babits Mihály: Húnyt szemmel…

Húnyt szemmel bérceken futunk
s mindig csodára vágy szivünk:
a legjobb, amit nem tudunk,
a legszebb, amit nem hiszünk.

Az álmok síkos gyöngyeit
szorítsd, ki únod a valót:
hímezz belőlük
fázó lelkedre gyöngyös takararót.

Aart Van Der Leeuw: [The mistery of life…]

The mystery of life
is not a problem to
be solved,
but a reality
to be experienced.

Lucille Clifton: we are running

running and
time is clocking us
from the edge like an only
daughter.
our mothers stream before us,
cradling their breasts in their
hands.
oh pray that what we want
is worth this running,
pray that what we’re running
toward
is what we want.

Juhász Gyula: Egy hangszer voltam...

Egy hangszer voltam az Isten kezében,
Ki játszott rajtam néhény dallamot,
Ábrándjait a boldog szenvedésnek,
Azután összetört és elhagyott.
Most az enyészet kezében vagyok,
De fölöttem égnek a csillagok.

Joy Harjo: This is My Heart

This is my heart. It is a good heart.
Bones and a membrane of mist and fire
are the woven cover.
When we make love in the flower world
my heart is close enough to sing
to yours in a language that has no use
for clumsy human words.

My head is a good head, but it is a hard head
and it whirs inside with a swarm of worries.
What is the source of this singing, it asks
and if there is a source why can't I see it
right here, right now
as real as these hands hammering
the world together
with nails and sinew?

This is my soul. It is a good soul.
It tells me, "come here forgetful one."
And we sit together with a lilt of small winds
who rattle the scrub oak.
We cook a little something
to eat: a rabbit, some sofkey
then a sip of something sweet
for memory.

This is my song. It is a good song.
It walked forever the border of fire and water
climbed ribs of desire to my lips to sing to you.
Its new wings quiver with
vulnerability.

Come lie next to me, says my heart.
Put your head here.
It is a good thing, says my soul.

Bill Zavatsky: At the poetry festival

Listening to the poets
that I love
introduce their poems,
talking the air
into images with their
beautiful hands, like flying sculptures,
we learn, as they
explain a little
(or a lot)
at long last what they mean!
What I want
is to stand up
right in the middle
of one of those
stunning explanations,
I want to shout
to the poet, over the heads
of the shocked crowd:
"Why didn't you put
those brilliant things
you just said
into your poem
in the first place?"
Why don't the poets
that I love
listen to me when I insist
that the footnotes
to the poem
be in the poem,
(like facts embedded
in the stream)--
all the little pebbles
that hold the water
that runs over them
in place...

Váci Mihály: Kettesben önmagammal

Aki voltam, milyen messze van tőlem!
S aki leszek, az már milyen közel.
Már utolér, mellém lép, támogat,
és átölel.

Bíztatva suttogja: Ne félj!
Valahogy majd csak megleszünk.
Hiszen szívünk marad a régi,
s ketten talán csak megőrizzük
az eszünk.

A.S.J. Tessimond: First meeting

When I first met you,
I knew that I had come at last home.
Home after wandering,
Home after long-puzzled searching,
Home after long being wind-born,
Wave-tossed, night-caught, long being lost.
And being with you was normal and needful
And natural as sleeping or waking.
And I was myself,
Who had never been wholly myself.
I was walking and talking
And laughing easily at last.
And the air was softer,
And sounds were sharper,
And colours were brighter,
And the sky was higher,
And length was not measured by milestones,
And time was not measured by clocks.
And this end was a beginning,
And these words are the beginning -
Of my thanks.

Sarah Teasdale: Enough

It is enough for me by day
To walk the same bright earth with him;
Enough that over us by night
The same great roof of stars is dim.
I have no care to bind the wind
Or set a fetter on the sea --
It is enough to feel his love
Blow by like music over me.

Jevgenyij Jevtusenko: Ősz

Bennem immár az őszi fény ragyog,
Bennem áttetsző, hűvös őszi nap van.
Szomorú, ám nem vigasztalhatatlan
 - alázattal teli és jó vagyok.

S ha néha  a lázadás elragad,
hát háborgok, de csak amúgy, csapongva,
s egy igénytelen szó fülembe mondja:
a lázongás -  nem a legfontosabb.

Fontosabb, hogy a harc és a döbbenet
világát s önmagad lásd őszi fényben
 - csupaszra vetkezetten - ahogy éppen
vele állsz szemben, s a világ veled.

Az eszmélés a csöndnek gyermeke.
Nem baj, ha folyvást nem kísér nagy zaj.
Hittel, hogy új lomb zöldül tavasszal,
énünk, mi zaj volt, vesse le.

Érzem, hogy valami történt velem,
és nincs más vágyam, csak a csend és a béke,
amelyben halkan levél hull levélre,
hogy abból is mind új humusz legyen.

Ha lombodat időben eldobod,
mindent meglátsz egy bizonyos magasból,
s az ősz higgadt ujját  is érzed akkor,
amint végigsimítja homlokod.

(Lothár László fordítása)

Shel Silverstein: Hug 'O War

I will not play at tug o' war.
I'd rather play at hug o' war,
Where everyone hugs
Instead of tugs,
Where everyone giggles
And rolls on the rug,
Where everyone kisses,
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles,
And everyone wins.

Marilyn Nelson: The Tao of the Trial

From the trial transcript: 

Miss Crandall's Boarding School

for Young Ladies of Color

Canterbury, CT, 1833-34

Miss Crandall, you stand accused of knowingly
teaching colored persons not resident of the state,
without prior consent.  What is your plea?

The Teacher does not instruct.  The Teacher waits.

Girl, has anyone been teaching anything to you and your friends?

Who taught you how to plead the Fifth Amendment?

Your honor, I submit as evidence
of the alleged teachings of alleged students
this colored girl here, who openly reads books
and gazes skyward, who has been overheard
conversing animatedly in polysyllabic words
and referring off-handedly to the Ancient Greeks.

The Teacher teaches, without words and without action,
simplicity, patience, and compassion.

Baranyi Ferenc: Házi feladat

Jaj, istenem, hogyan szeressem?
Egy mód marad csupán: nagyon.
Egymásnak tőr vagyunk mi ketten
és egyedüli oltalom.

Nem lesz könnyű vele az élet,
de nélküle nem élhető,
ha összeadsz két gyöngeséget -
kijöhet abból egy erő.

Ilyen a matematikája
a szerelemnek - logika
nincs benne. Egyetlen akadálya:
osztással kell szoroznia.

E feles számrendszer - mi bölcsre
s balgára végzetes lehet -
saját dugába dől, ha össze
nem osztható az egy meg egy.

Tudom, ha nem is hiszek benne:
ő velem összeosztható.
Oldjuk meg együtt. Ez a lecke.
S majd jegynek jó lesz rá a jó.

Judith Viorst: Just a few words of advice, just a few helpful hints

So your son has announced that he's going to marry that woman.
You know he'll be making the biggest mistake of his life.
For a daughter-in-law even Lady Macbeth deserves better.
And even a Henry the Eighth should be spared such a wife.
So before you begin to arrange the rehearsal dinner
From cocktails to capons to chocolate-covered mints,
You intend (without being critical) to (diplomatically) offer him
Just a few words of advice, just a few helpful hints.

So your daughter is leaving a job with an excellent future.
She's pulling up roots and she's moving out West to create,
Unencumbered by furtniture, money, or health insurance.
This is surely a game plan any sane person would hate.
So before she trades in her office and East Side apartment
For wind chimes, a futon, and maybe some cactus prints,
You intend (without seeming skeptical) to (quite respectfully) offer her
Just a few words of advice, just a few helpful hints.

So the parents of your new grandchild are spoiling him rotten.
He's never heard "no" or "say please" or "don't do that again."
It looks like he's worn the same shirt from last May through November.
It looks like he's going to breast-feed until he is ten.
So before his mother and father are too late to stop him
From growing up to be someone who'll make the world wince,
You intend (without sounding horrified) to (very tactfuly) offer them
Just a few words of advice, just a few helpful hints.

So our daughters and sons and their spouses are no longer children.
They reach their decisions without ever calling us first.
They often unreasonably tend to look on the bright side,
While we're always asking ourselves, What if worse comes to worst?
So before they do something too fatal we will rush in with
Anyting from a big hug to check to a blintz,
In addition to which we'll continue to (oh-so-unintrusively) offer them
Just a few words of advice, just a few helpful hints.

Nikki Giovanni: The Way I Feel

i've noticed i'm happier
when i make love
with you
and have enough left
over to smile at my doorman

i've realized i'm fulfilled
like a big fat cow
who was just picked
for a carnation contentment
when you kiss your special place
right behind my knee

i'm as glad as mortar
on a brick that knows
another brick is coming
when you walk through
my door

most time when you're around
i feel like a note
roberta flack is going to sing

in my mind you're a clock
and i'm the second hand sweeping
around you sixty times an hour
twenty-four hours a day
three hundred sixty-five days a year
and an extra day
in leap year
cause that's the way
that's the way
that's the way i feel
about you

Baranyi Ferenc: Egyszer majd minden összeköt

Ölelésünkben összeér:
talán a szív, talán a vér.

Az éjszakában összeköt:
talán a fény, talán a köd.

Mi hát - mi egybetart - a lánc?
Talán szeretsz. Tán csak kívánsz.

Mindegy, most hozzám tartozol.
S enyém leszel valamikor.

Egyszer majd minden összeköt:
a szív, a fény, a vér, a köd.

Trevor Hewett: Shirts

He rang from twenty years ago,
my friend from childhood, teenage days
and for an hour we talked
and giggled like two boys;
grown men with seven kids between us,
made helpless by the warmth of memory
stirring laughter from fine detail
both of us could add.
I heard his Midlands accent fade
and mine, he said, reverted to
our country burr and phrases, words,
we both had set aside till now;
the mutual lost language that
we both could clearly understand
and comfortably wear,
like old shirts.

Rolf Jacobsen: When They Sleep

All people are children when they sleep.
There's no war in them then.
They open their hands and breathe
in that quiet rhythm heaven has given them.

They pucker their lips like small children
and open their hands halfway,
soldiers and statesmen, servants and masters.
The stars stand guard
and a haze veils the sky,
a few hours when no one will do anybody harm.

If only we could speak to one another then
when our hearts are half-open flowers.
Words like golden bees
would drift in.
-- God, teach me the language of sleep.

Károlyi Amy: Így

Halkan mondjad, - hangosan hallik, -
vissza ne verjék messzi falak.
Leírni talán nem is szabad.

Orcádra fessed rózsaszínnel,
bújtasd mosolyos csigaházba,
didergésbe és könnyű lázba.

Rejtsd pillád alá, meg ne lássák,
akadó lélekzetbe vessed.
Hogyha szereted, így szeressed.

Nikki Giovanni: That Day

if you've got the key
then i've got the door
let's do what we did
when we did it before

if you've got the time
i've got the way
let's do what we did
when we did it all day

you get the glass
i've got the wine
we'll do what we did
when we did it overtime

if you've got the dough
then i've got the heat
we can use my oven
til it's warm and sweet

i know i'm bold
coming on like this
but the good things in life
are too good to be missed

now time is money
and money is sweet
if you're busy baby
we can do it on our feet

we can do it on the floor
we can do it on the stair
we can do it on the couch
we can do it in the air

we can do it in the grass
and in case we get an itch
i can scratch it with my left hand
cause i'm really quite a witch

if we do it once a month
we can do it in time
if we do it once a week
we can do it in rhyme

if we do it every day
we can do it everyway
we can do it like we did it
when we did it
that day

Judith Viorst: A modest proposal

A shrewd friend of mine is persuaded
We'd help everybody in need
If we were assured we would lose a pound
Each time we performed a good deed.

How swiftly we'd rush to contribute,
How eagerly we'd volunteer,
If giving to others could guarantee
That our waistlines would reappear.

We'd eat, without fear of reprisals,
The foods our scales used to forbid,
Knowing the flab would dissolve from our hips
As soon as we tutored a kid,

Or worked to save owls, whales, or forests,
Or read to the sick or the blind.
Spurred by the motto "The larger the heart,
The smaller will be the behind,"

We'd raise funds to shelter the homeless,
Or cure some disease, or stop war.
Seeing our silhouettes narrowing down,
We'd yearn to do more, and still more,

Delighted to make the world better
While also achieving thin thighs.
All of us folks who've been watching our weight
Would be easy to mobilize

And turn into daily do-gooders
Released from a diet regime
And enjoying a vast sense of virtousness
Along with a lot of whipped cream.