poetryrepairs #234 17,02:014

Zoltán Böszörményi: Only Syllables
Zoltán Böszörményi : Lonesome Bird

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Zoltán Böszörményi
Only Syllables 

A foolish world claims me as its fool, there are no clouds in the sky only syllables sprinkled over a dead winter. I have no one to reject me out of boredom.

Csak Szotagok Bolond világnak bolondja vagyok, nincsenek az égen felhok, csak olt télbe szórt szótagok. S nincs, aki unt magától ellök.


poetryrepairs #234 17,02:014





Zoltán Böszörményi
Lonesome Bird 

A lonesome bird on a limb singing for its own delight. The glitter of the song flies to the tips of pines, the breath of mulling mingles with the smoke of time. A lonesome bird on a limb singing for its own delight. Still unaware of anyone else listening to the song, still on the run from the mane of the grizzled darar.

Magányos madár magányos madár az ágon, saját gyönyöruségére énekel. a fenyok csúcsaira a dal fénye repül, a tunodés lélegzete évek füstjével vegyül. magányos madár az ágon, saját gyönyöruségére énekel. még nem tudja, dalával nincs egyedül. o is a bozontos sötét sörénye elol menekül.


poetryrepairs #234 17,02:014





KIRBY WRIGHT
 I Found You

In memory of Laurie
I found you in the obits. We held hands during the 70s. My father drove us to the concert. We were destined to marry. We held hands during the 70s. Sorry I was late for the party. We were destined to marry. I hated you for wanting that singer. Sorry I was late for the party. Notes from our song play in my head. I hated you for wanting that singer. You wore tight white cords. Notes from our song play in my head. My father drove us to the concert. You wore tight white cords. I found you in the obits.
From THE WOUNDED MORNING by Kirby Wright a collection of flash and poetry explores the secret interior worlds of characters dealing with intense emotional landscapes. Some of the pieces flash back in time to reveal the underpinnings of feelings of inadequacy,




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Zoltán Böszörményi, a Romanian-Hungarian poet and writer, has published two novels in Sohar’s translation: “Far from Nothing” (Exile Editions, Canada, 2006) and “The Club at Eddie’s Bar” (Phaeton Press, Ireland, 2013). Poems are from lábatlan ido (“Legless Time”).

Paul Sohar, translator, earned a BA in philosophy and took a day job in a lab while writing and publishing in every genre. His own poetry: “Homing Poems” (Iniquity, 2006) and “The Wayward Orchard”, a Wordrunner Prize winner (2011). Latest translation volumes: "Silver Pirouettes" (TheWriteDeal 2012) and “In Contemporary Tense” (Iniquity Press, 2013). Magazine credits: Agni, Gargoyle, Osiris, Poetry Salzburg Review, Rattle, etc.


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