Careening down the mountain
on the one remaining rail
of the broken railbed,
gathering speed, my arms
spread wide, hunched-up,
tensing for the crash
is when I shudder awake,
many times already,
in this cold white room.
In Hungary, before Trianon,
Nem, nem, soha …
life was likened
to licking honey,
to licking sweet honey
from a thorn.
I have seen the future
and don’t want to go there.
Like a reversing van,
a pantechnicon, very
very slowly backing in.
.......................................
Nem, nem, soha : No, no, never -- the Hungarian rejection of Trianon, the treaty that took away two-thirds of its land and people after the Austro-Hungarian army was defeated in the Great War.
