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Maghiară
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Fehérvasárnap
Halottaink szótlan ikonok
régi templom meszelt falán,
galambok a tornyon,
sírkertben a moha.
Délben harangszó leng
és a dombok mögött
felrezeg a tobozban,
a kavicsban a patak medrén.
A víz hideg, tisztább mindennél.
Megmosdunk.
Ebédünk a napban,
szívünkben béke és remény.
Second Sunday of Easter
Our dead are silent icons
On the whitewashed wall of an old church,
Doves on the tower,
Moss in the graveyard.
At noon, the toll of bells lingers,
And behind the hills,
The pine cone quivers,
The pebble in the creek bed.
The water is cold, purer than anything.
We bathe.
Our lunch in the sun,
Peace and hope in our hearts.
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Give a shoutout to Shiva Boss
