INVALIDENSTRASSE (*)

I must speak of my fear. Of the mornings when I awoke
drenched in sweat. After dreams
without memories. And I wanted nothing. Simply to disappear. Silence
muteness. I don't know why. Then
it came to me: What would happen, if…? What would happen if
there wouldn't be anything anymore. Everything I'm doing now

I wouldn't have to finish. All those things
which I don't know how to do. At once to reach
the end. I should like to reach the end. Let there be an end.
I began to desire this. If I would disappear. Perhaps then

///

Preciso falar do meu medo. Das manhãs em que acordei
encharcado em suor. Depois de sonhos
sem memórias. E não desejei nada. Simplesmente desaparecer. Silêncio
mudez. Não sei porquê. Então
ocorreu-me: O que aconteceria, se…? O que aconteceria se
nada houvesse nunca mais. Tudo o que agora faço

não teria que finalizar. Todas essas coisas
que não sei como fazer. Chegar ao fim
de uma vez. Gostaria de chegar ao fim. Se houver um fim.
Comecei a desejar isso. Se pudesse desaparecer. Então talvez

by Szilárd BORBÉLY, 1963-2014, Hungarian Poet

(Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA, 2020)

(photograph taken from Internet)

(*) This wonderful poem was introduced to me by my Friend Steve BUCKNELL. I didn't know this Hungarian Poet neither his books, but it's enough for me to recognize his greatness through this single masterpiece.