Fraternity-Testvériség, 1961 (39. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1961-08-01 / 8. szám
4 FRATERNITY Red glow creeps over the horizon, At Ozd, they pour molten iron. Fascinating, birchy landscape, With a million bonfires gleam. They all lure me to escape; Brutal todays: to boyhood dream. Mother's village serenely calls From beyond the frozen falls. The church steeple in gentle breeze, Looms taller than the fairy dreams. The frosty rooftops of early dawn, Greet a returning only son. Forgotten the long, snowy road, A gray mother, with heart of gold; Her lonely vigil about to end: In thankful prayer my knees will bend. “DON’T TELL ME IT IS WORSE IN AFRICA” Don’t talk to me about space ships, a trip to the moon or Mars, about life in the atomic age . . . We live like this. In darkness, in mud, far away . . . We too are “heroes”, all of us, who, crowded into tiny rooms, chczv pumpkin seeds and lie around like garbage. Don’t tell me it is worse in Africa. I live in Europe, my skin is white. Who will embrace me to make me feel that I am human? Budapest — April, 1956 KAROLY JOBBÁGY
