Arany János - Győrei Zsolt (szerk.): The trill of the nightingale (Budapest, 2019)
IV - „When worn, it gives me height, when not, gives depth as well” - Into Autumn (Mark Baczoni) - The Wandering Jew (Mark Baczoni)
And just as oft' the desert lies, False images of water gives, Sweet fruit draws me on, balming, fresh, Its skin golden, but ash its flesh. Onward! Onward! Run, I must - as the worldly rush Flows past me in a dreadful gush; People are such a blur to me - Of them all, I know nobody. Onward! Onward! Oh! What crowds, and me all alone! Though through them all my path has gone; And like a boat can feel the foam I feel the blows 'neath which 1 roam. Onward! Onward! The comet round again will come And an arrow loosed will hit home The stone that's cast will come to rest But I go e'er directionless Onward! Onward! Oh, why aren't I a simple stream Swallowed up by parched soil's seam? Why not wild storm that passing flies, Then crashes on the rocks and dies? Onward! Onward! I envy the leaf falling free For it will find a place to be Envy, too, a seed of nettle That e'en in a ditch will settle. Onward! Onward! Pity this Jew, pity my heart Finally, to my rest I'll part. Endless mercy tear asunder My curse, so it will not thunder: Onward! Onward!
