Ady, Endre
Ermindszent’s Parnassian
Poet in Paris
The light falls down athwart his hair in gloss
And splay of lyric brilliance. Yes cascades.
These streaks of glory are tight heaven’s loss,
The loss celestial heights’ desires. Shine fades
But only till it flames in flashes on
The darkened waves of poetry he shows
Above his forehead and his skull like dawn
That hovers over Homer or like snows
Upon Olympus when it prophesies
For Hungary. His noble profile holds
His augur nose, the seer’s lips and eyes
All held in priestly poetry’s strong folds…
But still he found the poisons he could drink,
Wallow withering in syfy wine’s stink.