About My Bad Poems
verse translation of a poem by Sándor Petőfi
(1845)
About My Bad Poems
Don’t think I could always
Write good poetry?
Yet my heart’s main virtue
Is philanthropy.
Indeed!... if I always
Were to write good verse,
What would my poor critics
Be left with to curse?
From time to time, they too
Need some frivolity,
For every bit of trash
They gulp down with glee.
Let them chew the crud, those
Feeble parasites!
For they all may still be
Humans, in my eyes.
Continuing my bicentennial tribute to Sándor Petőfi (1823–1849), Hungary’s national poet, a revolutionary who spoke the people’s language, and who also had a gift for romantic pastorals, and a piercing sense of humor.
Most of his poems are strictly syllabic, and “About My Bad Poems” (original below) is written as 7–6–7–6 in each verse. I shortened this to 6–5–6–5 in the English translation. English takes up more space on the page (for various…
