Albert Szenci Molnár’s Days in High Fever
Do you think, youngsters,
that all through these days
you take care of the victim
of unfulfilled love-affairs,
and that’s why he is tormented by shivering,
and why he is bruxing his teeth,
filling the walls of this barren
student-shelter with fears,
this grey nest of ours,
the good Casimir,
the walls of which are psalm-tapestried?
My dear keepers, six sons of Germany,
though we share our prayers and daily bread,
even in my sober state of mind
it could never be uttered,
how many wounds into my mouth and
into the palm of my hand
was burnt by begging,
and, though unintentionally,
how many of my words
were, due to this humiliation, left.
Those, born under a more secure sky than ours,
can’be able – even if full of benevolence – properly understand
my days here, from thaler to thaler
painfully dragged.
Casimir College, during the summer of 1599.
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 