A lovely new poem from George Szirtes.
Night in Budapest
in a quiet district past
midnight. The sleepless
turn in silent beds,
listening to their own thoughts,
neighbours in courtyards
locked on to their lives.
Where would night be without them?
Where are the bright moons
of their faint breathing?
#poetry #Budapest #GeorgeSzirtes
(X via Nitter)
George Szirtes, a English poet of Hungarian origins, with another wonderful poem.
Poetrys late shift:
the sleeper in the night house;
the silence in streets;
the words gathering
in Babel; the underground
river wanting out;
the winter mouthing
snow; the dictionary lost
in horror at bright
nothings in the sky.
X-Twitter via Nitter
https://nitter.cz/george_szirtes/status/1723131298959561090
