Endre Ady: The Hungarian fallow

I walk on meadows run to weed,
on fields of burdock and of mallow.
I know this rank and ancient ground -
this is the Magyar fallow.

I bow down to the sacred soil;
this virgin ground is gnawed, I fear.
Hey, skyward groping seedy weeds,
are there no flowers here?

While I look at the slumbering earth,
the twisting vines encircle me,
and scents of long dead flowers steep
my senses amorously.

Silence. I am dragged down and roofed
and lulled in burdock and in mallow.
A mocking wind flies whisking by
above the mighty fallow.

A Magyar Ugar/The Hungarian Fallow

240x380 mm Watercolour, pen, cold gold enamel on paper Made: 2002