Photograph by Laura Veres
Awakening
It's still dark.
The first sunrise after Creation
could've been
similar to the lights
in the corridor of an empty museum
before the guard opens the doors.
I'm opening my eyes.
The first thing I see is you.
I wonder how long it will take
for me to tell you apart
from the other recently formed things,
to know you haven't grown
out of the moss carpet
you're standing on,
you're not the fruit fallen from the tree,
not animated by the wind.
I would have to gaze at you a long time.
What we can see in the sky
is not the sun, not yet,
it's just a freshly kneaded planet.
It illuminates things for a little while
until we believe they exist.
Translated by Agnes Marton.
Zita Izso is the recipient of numerous awards and grants, including the Zsigmond Móricz Literary Grant, the Mihály Babits Literary Translator Grant and the NKA Arts Grant. She published her third poetry collection in 2018 under the title Éjszakai földet érés (Nighttime Landing).
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