Love’s Fool
–Margit Szécsi
It happened before my eyes:
grass sprouted miraculously,
and rancid oil on my tongue
didn’t taste bitter to me.
The world of all that is not
was setting light to my hair,
in my rags just like some saint
fiercely I preached at the air.

I know now he was laughing
at me for being a fool;
O how lovely my blindness,
believing was impossible.
And you came, mud-stained flower,
with such dreaming agonized;
when the sky came crashing down
it was myself I recognized.