Stripper with soul

Nobody warned me before that blogs are like tattoos.. if you have one, you always think about the second one. Or at least that is true in my case. (Am I graphomaniac?)

Right now spending some time home, I found my old poems and I decided to open another blog in Hungarian. Although London gives me power and self-confidence, Hungary gives richness to my soul. And there is one layer of my heart that in English you will never be able to understand.

The translation is rough and it doesn't do its justice. I think to translate a poem is the most difficult part of learning a language and I'm still not there yet. But here are some of my poems from a few years back:

I dreamt that you were 

close to me, really close.

And when I wake up - maybe - 

you are here next to me.

xxx

I'm an angel. I hug you with 

my snow-white wings when you are cold.

You made them for me from fluffy clouds

so when you call me I'm ready to fly to you.

xxx

If I could transform into words

what I feel for you,

I'm afraid these feelings

would leave me forever.

xxx

I see you as an angel who broke his wings 

and the memory of the pain 

stops him from believing 

that once he was able to fly.