A Tired Man

Solemn peasants in the fields

straggle homeward without a word.

Side by side we lie, the river and I,

fresh grasses slumber under my heart.

A deep calm is rolling in the river.

My heavy cares are now as light as dew.

I'm not man, or child, "Hungarian" or "brother" -

lying here is just a tired man, like you.

Evening ladles out the quiet,

I'm a warm slice from its loaf of bread.

In the peaceful sky the stars come out

to sit on the river and shine on my head.