Arany János - Győrei Zsolt (szerk.): The trill of the nightingale (Budapest, 2019)

V - „'Tis enough if it shines for me” - Epilogue (Mark Baczoni)

Though, in fact, I'm consumed throughout By a niggling, ever-present doubt.

Poets, if good,

Bum up, like Nessus' blood.

How much remaining to be done!

And how much I will leave undone - Left unfinished;

My hopes are so diminished.

Of this life, I have done the round;

The hope that in my heart I found

It gave me not Cruel denial was my lot.

A little independent calm In which my poetry could come I begged and begged But, every year, my life reneged.

A quiet nook 'neath shady tree Where my muse could visit me,

To call my own;

A wife to see my children grown.

A busy, contented dotage,

To finish things, a final stage This all my need;

And once again, to plant and weed.

But now if all that life gave - Too late! For me is but the grave:

A cage, though open, is Still a prison

For a bird whose wings are broken.

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