AUTUMN INSPIRATION

How long ago I was nursed as an orphan child by the Summer Firestorm! Now heavy, heavy, leaden Autumn haunts me. The season now gives its juicy, succulent fruits to Nature, but who knows? It may be as it should be. Between two points even now my shipwrecked life stretches like a bow. I can hardly find peace or repose in the playful, frivolous drift of moments.

Towards the future, it is true, I would still be dragged along by tamed roots of hairs longing for fulfilment, but the ominous smell of everyday life makes my nose sniff: "Beware, for they will pull the melodious honeyed smell away from you! In the forest of Mátraszentimre, where the deer are crying, is the little acorn tree we planted together still there? Perhaps the forester cut it down long ago, some forest animal cut off its branches.

It would often be better to be free for good from the wombs of the Executioner-gods that hold us captive, that hinder us. I cannot leave my comfort zone - in vain, for I would not understand it anyway -, except by eternal friends or by the side of the One and Only! Who will let through filtered trellises the twilight of the twin haloes Into the walls of my dark room?!

It would often be good to get out of the womb of the Executioner-Deities, which hold us captive, which hinder us. I cannot leave my comfort zone - in vain, for I would not understand it anyway -, except by eternal friends or the side of the One-Bearer! - I wonder who will be there in my finite moment, when my sickly heart beats its last beat, who will take care of my houseplants and manuscripts?

Who will let through filtered trellises the twilight of the twin haloes Into the walls of my dark room?!

Could the parts of my old typewriter have been sold for good money?And yet how obediently, industriously, ingeniously the little machine knocked, and remained faithful even when others had long since betrayed me, or had given me up with a careless sigh.Chance and necessity often play a devilish joke on me.