Google Translate, sometimes I love you

Accreditted to someone, not me. Usually google translate chews up Hungarian like a piece of boushka-gristle, gobbing it into pixellated clay balls. Sometimes, it does this. And then I do something else. And Benjamin-translate doesn’t come for free…

Hold his arms.
Plane crash leaves no.
If you are in the morning, and the tousled hair
Him, or even the sunrise!

The shiny sphere
As there was rolling in the box-
Yet precisely fits
The diagonals in the middle.


They strapped him to her.
Bracing – this inertia brought
a morning like slow fire,
crashed, hair twists, it is daybreak

The sun is, just
you can see a man, if you look
pulling tight strings across its chest
don’t look
it still fits, and us.

About Benjamin Norris

Published writer of short stories, long stories, poems. Well received art critic and cultural commentator for Berlin magazines. Collaborator with operatic societies. Co-writer of fictional historic psycholinguistic journals. Lecturer of architecture and art history at a Budapest University. View all posts by Benjamin Norris

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