“It is only my insanity that keeps me sane.” (from my "Note Book")

…The cuckoo flies over the elephant’s nest…

I tell you I don’t joke, don’t tolerate jest,

Either you fly or I whip you with my stick,

I know a thousand ways to make you quite sick.

You laugh; you think I am crazy. Just you wait.

You’ve no idea what to anticipate.

I am the King; I can walk upon the clouds,

I can shine or be invisible to crowds,

I am omnipotent; I can make you die…

No one can challenge me, no one can ask: “Why?”

Why? Because, I tell you, I can lie real good,

If I killed you, I would lie, really, I would.

I would tell everyone a tiger killed you,

You were eaten alive, whilst I said: “Adieu.”

Nobody would guess that the tiger was I,

‘Cause tigers cannot, but I can truly fly,

Like cuckoo I fly over elephants nest…

I told you I don’t joke, don’t tolerate jest…

I will eat you and will throw away your bones,

Suck out your brain and lick your hormones

And your rotten heart I will throw to the dogs,

Then I dispose your remnants into the bogs…

…Don’t cry… I love you… that’s why I want you dead…

I was sweet to you, soft, like freshly baked bread,

But you wanted me to turn into hard nut…

Held out my cheeks and you kicked me on my butt…

Is that then the way to treat a true lover?

Is that then the way to end a sad affair?

You killed me and buried me under a bush,

This is not the way to give a man a push…

You could have killed me softly, softly with love…

I will now dismiss you; I’ll give you the shove…

There… Gone… Rest in peace… Now a few tears I’ll shed,

Before I go n’ lock myself into my shed.

…I must think… I think I will do just that… Think…

Over the horizon the hills turned light pink…

Another day is born… perhaps one just died…

I’ll go… Kill the Sun… it would be justified…

Why? Because it mocks me with its golden rays,

Which gently warm my face and blinds me… always…

Double-crossing Sun… Warms and blinds… lying Sun…

Lies like every whore, like every courtesan;

Ready to warm you and then to steal your eyes,

To take you to heaven, then… dehumanise…

…Beautiful beast is the female beast... Cunning

And dangerous… You better keep on running,

Or you’ll become her prey… She will devour you…

You’ll be dead elephant… flying like cuckoo…

…There goes the red Sun, hidden behind a cloud,

Pulled over its face like a funeral shroud.

There it goes; it cannot blind me any more…

Tied in tight grey jacket, locked behind a door,

I am free at last; no longer can shed tears,

My hopes have disappeared… and so have my fears…

All the heavenly fields I am free to roam,

I can be a giant… or a garden gnome…

…I think I will rest now… will lie down and die…

Close my eyes to dream and say my last goodbye…

I will say sorry for murdering the Sun;

I had a hard day, I must stop, mustn’t run…

Darkness sits upon the earth; the Sun is dead…

I am sleeping sweetly, tucked up in my bed.

They cannot convict me for killing the Sun,

I’ve done it out of revenge, not out of fun.

…Sun and mankind… so much misery they gave…

I have murdered them and buried in a grave…

My lovers and Sun in the same grave they rest…

…The elephant flies over the cuckoo’s nest…

© P. J. Oszmann (2002) (Based on a Hungarian original circa. 1951)

© Illustration created in Photoshop (2004)

The original of this poem, written in my early youth, was inspired by Sándor Petöfi’s poem: “The Madman”. The resulting work above is not a translation, but rather a complete reworking of the original, which was written in Hungarian and in wake of a disappointing  “love affair” and painful rejection by the same young lady to whom two previously posted poems were addressed (see: “You are a piece of jewel” and the Sonnet “When the dusk settles with quiet whispers.”)