The Ray of a Soul
([Excerpt], in free translation from Hungarian)
The grape is a tiny fruit,
Yet, it needs a whole summer to ripen.
The Earth, too, is a fruit, a giant fruit,
And if the tiny grape needs one whole summer,
How many does this giant fruit need,
Until it is ripe? It could take,
Thousands, perhaps millions of years,
But it will surely ripen one day,
And then people will feast on it,
Till the end of time.
The grape is ripened by the rays of the sun,
(But) until it is sweet, how many sun rays,
Must breathe upon it the warmth of their lives,
How many hundreds of thousands, millions of rays?...
The Earth, too, is ripened by rays, but
These are not rays of the sun, (but) rather
The souls of people.
Every generous soul is such a ray, but
Only the generous soul, and they are rare,
How can one expect, then
The Earth to ripen quickly?
I feel that I, too, am a ray,
Helping the Earth to ripen.
The life of a ray is but a day,
I know that buy the time,
Of the great harvest,
I will have been long past my sunset,
And traces of my minuscule work,
Will be lost in the great undertaking,
But the knowledge gives my life strength,
And peace in my (hour of) death,
That I, too, am a ray.
Petőfi, Sándor, 1848 Budapest, Hungary