Autumn glow – (Sonnet)

The colour of the leaves turned to red rust,

Mild dew shimmers on the top of the lawn.

All the trees appear solemnly august

In the calm red glow of the waking dawn.

Carpet of rusty leaves cover the ground

Underneath the old trees tall and erect.

As I survey the scene, standing spellbound,

A gust of wind playfully interject,

Bringing unwelcome cold tears to the eye.

How after long past moments my heart grieves,

Here in the tender glow of dawn, as I

Listen to the soft whisper of falling leaves.

Life passed me by, it’s soon my time to go

Slowly to fade in the gentle autumn glow.

© P. J. Oszmann  (2004)

© Illustration created in Photoshop (2004)

 Autumn

The sky is heavy with sad, melancholic clouds.

All round the horizon is gloomy, dark and grey.

Above the hills the sky, robed in bright crimson shrouds,

Burns like a wildfire with an ominous display.

And like the last quiet exhaled breath of demise

The wind shivers, cries, through the murky, misty air

- All nature sobs and groans with it, with tear filled eyes -

Bringing the last breath to the dying summer’s flair.

The old trees shed their yellowing leaves with sad sighs,

Parched yellow carpet lies under the barren trees,

They bow their bare heads to the wind - which howls and cries -

Knowing that it harvests for winter’s treasuries.

And up there… up there on top of the hill the fire’s

Scarlet red-hot flames blaze with menacing wide sweep...

Red tongues awaiting their virginal sacrifice

Falling into it… and the skies begin to weep.

The cool tears of heaven extinguishes the flames

- Albeit silent death had finished its gruesome task –

Wasted are heavens tears; triumphant death proclaims…

And autumn night descends, whilst death raises its flask.

With night descends a mute numbness; nature lies still,

With all its sweet dreams stolen… waiting for daybreak…

Sleep nature!… and you too heart… soon relents the chill…

 New flowers will blossom and new spring will awake.

© P. J. Oszmann (September 1953 - in Hungarian. English Transliteration: 2005)

Footnotes:

I intended to post the first poem “Autumn Glow” last autumn, shortly after I’ve taken the photograph used for the illustration. Just before the intended posting, howevev, I re-discovered my almost forgotten original Hungarian manuscript of the second poem “Autumn”, written some fifty years earlier. I decided then that I would post the two together,  when I completed the translation. It took me a year to get round to transliterating it, basically because I found it very difficult to render it in English poetic form without doing injustice to the original flow and “tone”. Many of the words, expressions and imagery used in the original proved almost impossible to translate and even more difficult to fit into a poetic form, keeping the meter whilst finding the requisite rhymes in English.  

Although the Hungarian poem could be read as purely descriptive, it had a deeper, intended allegorical meaning, reflecting the gloom as well as the faint hope at the end of the Stalin era in Hungary. (Stalin died in March 1953 and Khrushchev was elected first secretary of the Communist Party in Moscow in September. When I showed the poem to a couple of trusted friends, they suggested that I burn it, unless I wanted to end up in Siberia, implying that the allegorical references were transparent.) Although the gloom and severity of Soviet tyranny was undiminished, there was a perceivable undercurrent of restlessness in the Soviet block of satellite states, giving a glimmer of hope for some long awaited change. It took another three years before discontent erupted in the Uprising of October 1956.

I decided to post the older poem in second place, because although the Hungarian original predates the first poem posted above by more than fifty years, the final transliteration was not completed until more recently. Also the older poem written in my “Spring Years” ends on a more optimistic note.

Below I give the original text and the line-by-line translation.

The Hungarian original:

Az Ösz

Bús, borongós felhöktöl nehėz az ėg

Köröskörül sötėt a szemhatár

Fent a hegyek felett biborpirban ėg,

Mint egy máglya mely áldozatra vár.

És mint az elmúlásnak halk lehellete

Úgy sir borzong a szél a párás légen át

- Az egész természet zokog és nyög vele –

Hozza a haldokló nyár végsö sóhaját.

Búsan pergeti a fa sárga levelét

Avarszönyeg terül a kopár törzs alatt

A szél elött a fa meghajtja bús fejét

Tudja hogy a szél már a zord télnek arat.

És ott fent… ott fent a hegytetön a máglya

Röt vörös lángja izzon fellobog

Szüzi áldozatát vörös nyelve várja

Az belehull… s az ég is felzokog.

Az ég hüvös könnye a máglyát kioltja…

Már dolgát végezte a nesztelen halál.

Az ég könnyüjét már oly hiába ontja….

S az öszi éjtszaka csendesen leszáll.

Leszáll és véle jö a néma dermedtség

Mely ellopja a természet édes álmait…

Aludj természet… s sziv te is! Kiderül még.

Új virág nyilik majd, és uj tavasz virit.

© P. J. Oszmann (September 1953)

The line-by-line translation:

The sky is heavy with sad, melancholic clouds

The horizon is dark all around,

Above the hills it (the sky) is burning with a crimson flame

Like a bonfire (stake) awaiting a victim.

And like the quiet breath of death

Cries, shivers the wind through the misty air

- The entire nature sobs and groans with it -

Bringing the last breath of the dying summer.

Sadly the trees shed their yellowing leaves,

Parched carpet lies under the barren trunks

Trees bow their heads to the wind,

Knowing that it harvests for the grim winter.

And up there, up there on top of the hill the fire’s

Russet red-hot flames blaze with a glow.

Its red tongues awaiting their virginal sacrifice

Falling into it… and the sky begins to weep.

The cool tears of the sky extinguishes the flames…

Though the silent death had finished its task

Wasted are the tears shed by heaven…

And the autumn night descends silently.

With it descends the mute numbness,

Which steels the sweet dreams of nature…

Sleep nature… and you too heart…It’ll brighten up yet…

 New flowers will blossom and new spring will wake.