Skip to content

World of Haiku: Poets of Hungary

Test

[back]
Author: Marcell Domonkos
On this wintry canvas
I regard my own breath
as a white phantom
Author: Szilvia Auth
your satori is
late – see – decades of years
faded away in vain
Author: Andrea Hétvári
the heaped bed of snow
is spinning away in flames—
dream of the wheat seed
Author: Judit Bodai-Soós
from the children’s hands
the snow-white paper pieces
fall into powder
Author: Gábor Zsille
Seventeen syllables
marinate it a little:
a small philosophy
Author: Zsuzsanna Boross
Someone in the night
has been biting into the
nose of the snowman
Author: Pál Péter Hetesi
Holy Emptiness.
Jesus is sleepin’ in the
Shadow of Buddha . . .
Author: Gábor Kovács
In the washing bin
the dishes are piled up as
our empty years
Author: Katalin Harcos
In our letter-box
A pair of tits is dwelling.
Careful with that letter!
Author: Károly Petö Tóth
Hic et nunc, ad hoc
amor omnia vincit.
Cash and carry please!
Author: László Villányi
From finger-end to stove
falls a drop of water
hisses, and disappears
Author: György Károly
New Year’s Morning
The thrown-away paper trumpet
spits blood to the snow
Author: Anna Földeáki-Horváth
Museum garden.
An ever-moving small man
comforts the stone sculptures
Author: József Bíró
What has been assured
to me I accept with peace
the ROAD’s difficult
Author: Csaba Fecske
So many blood drops
Rose hips are going to red
summer passes away
Author: Lajos Félix Fenyvesi
Ancient tombstones
the illegible names are of
very young soldiers
Author: Ferenc Bakos
nudist beach:
Adam and Eve exchange
e-mail addresses
Author: Gábor Mándy
Meadow flowers
So many times trampled
Now grow earthward
Author: Ákos Fodor
in front of my feet
sat a bird, and then took flight
now I’m heavier.
Author: Judit Vihar
behind an old hut
I drink from the well
of the Past.
Author: Imre Oravecz
behind the curtain
Purulence flows from the dream
into a big bowl
Author: Attila Szepesi
In the beggar's hand
my grandfather's sooty face
a piece of black bread
Author: Kornélia Kerschner
In the sweet spring sky
The light of shining Venus
Shadows Jupiter
Author: Csaba Lászlóffy
End of the millennium
Instead of progress, the hangman
tends to us
Author: Dezsö BuSzabó
I am writing lines
over and over and pray
for immortality
Author: János Kurszán Kántor
My dream: a secret
Star, which helps me fly away
to my passed mother
Author: József Utassy
Sometimes in our dreams
the blooming trees are chatting
to you: Liberty!
Author: Dezsö Tandori
Already half past two!
How quickly
a year has passed
Author: Ödön Horváth
On the monitor
the lively sine-wave becomes
a horizontal line
Author: László Bertók
Merry Christmas
The twentieth century's napkins
Are hanging on bars
Author: György Timár
Eights spots, this
is the dream
of the ladybird
[back]
Back To Top