5/07/2010

Silence Alive

On the occasion of my birthday (20. of february) I would like to surprise you with an article about me which is very kind to me. It was written by my favourite poet Zemlényi Attila the editor in chief of the periodical titled "Műút". The article was published at one time in the columns of "Irodalmi Jelen".

Silence Alive

To the photos of Bozsaky Dávid

If I were asked I would reply without hesitation that Bozsaky Dávid took these photos by his single camera in the outskirts of the shooting lodge in Ilmenau where Goethe wrote the Wanderer's night song on the wall. In a place where under the power of poetry - as Gandalf disarmingly tells- death is not the end of life but is another path. It is in a place where temporariness of life is followed by the act of adapting to the harmony of nature and to the order of eternal roundabout. You are not alone over there. Revelation is a painful act though. These legendary black and white creatures are observing and the shepherd is the forest. Deepness - sharpness. It makes the thought of Nietscshe trivial that whatever you look at it looks back at you. The glance of Bozsaky Dávid means the same to me. Reflection is its essence. There is no hanky-panky, coloured-fragrant, sugar-coated illusion imitating perfection. There are only emotionless, persistently observing microcosmoses with sharp, dashed, scalloped and organic middles and with dimmed edges. There are them and the wanderer.

Goethe's Wanderer's Night song in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's Translation:

O'er all the hill-tops
Is quiet now,
In all the tree-tops
Hearest thou
Hardly a breath;
The birds are asleep in the trees:
Wait; soon like these
Thou too shalt rest.

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