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)
Into Autumn Oh! If I could but now relive That sweet golden age that was my youth And, hoping, once more voice to give To my lengthy list of hopes, forsooth; To charge undaunted at a sky Obscured with fog, and yet never mind; Which, on my way downhill, does lie So brilliant, but oh so far behind! The Wandering Jew Oh, to rest! But no, I cannot: Trial and tempest, they are my lot. No steady ground for me to tread A sword that's hanging o'er my head. Onward! Onward! The path my tired feet do tread Breaks underfoot, is all crooked; The colossal sky o'er me propped Would crush me if I ever stopped. Onward! Onward! Fearful ev'ry moment granted me, Burdened by all those yet to be, Each step another snake to tread Today, tomorrow - both I dread. Onward! Onward! Famished, torture ev'ry bite I take, Thirsting, with flames my thirst to slake; My dreams a ceaseless waking start Ev'ry nook hides daggers for my heart. Onward! Onward!
