He was a large-eyed, Hunnish youth, <br />smitten with many a fair mirage, <br />and with his herd he struck into <br />the famous Magyar Hortobágy. <br />Woman and dreams have seized his soul <br />a thousand times with magic snare; <br />but when his heart would sprout a flower <br />the herds of cattle grazed it bare. <br />He often thought of wondrous things, <br />of wine and woman, death and birth; <br />he could have been a holy bard <br />in any other land on earth. <br />But he gazed upon the herds <br />and on the breeched, illiterate crowd, <br />straightway he buried all his songs; <br />he whistled or he swore aloud.<br /><br />Endre Ady<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poet-of-the-hortob-gy/
