Arany János - Győrei Zsolt (szerk.): The trill of the nightingale (Budapest, 2019)
V - „'Tis enough if it shines for me” - The Butterfly (Thomas Cooper)
The Butterfly Green butterfly, a fallen leaf, Nudged on by every passing gust, Alights no more on petals bright, Just flutters in the roadside dust. She wears no striking velvet dress, no shiny shell, no shimmering glow. But garbed in faded habiliment, She lives her heyday even so. She had her day, or two or three, She tasted love’s ambrosia sweet, But now she casts tomorrow’s seeds, And pays no mind to tromping feet. Poor thing! Were I to trod on her I’d crush the future she would sow. But she so trusting at my feet, I won’t disturb her work below. Then live your summer’s fleeting days if any summer days remain. A baleful squall could sudden come And freeze you in the wind and rain. But thank me that my gaze is cast Towards the ground and not the skies I might have trod you underfoot Had I dared lift my weary eyes. Why bother raise my head? This vale Is but a shroud of misty gray. I see no birds, no, only you disturb the dust which marks my way. No skylark cleaves the firmament, The blessed sunshine hurts my eye, My gaze rests on the pale expanse Of dirt in which I soon will lie. My fate has torn me from the skies, And somber woe weighs down my breast. No longer sow I seeds of hope, but seek only a place to rest.
