At Night
a mini-bio and verse translation
by Joe Váradi
Among the greatest Hungarian poets despite a tragically short life, Miklós Radnóti had the misfortune of being born Jewish in the first half of the 20th century, 1909 to be precise.
His mother died due to complications of childbirth, after delivering Miklós and an unnamed stillborn twin brother. Born Glatter, he had his last name changed to Radnóti, a name derived from the town of origin of his grandfather. In 1935 he married Fanni Gyarmati, who became his muse and greatest champion, as well as the main breadwinner as he wrote and struggled to hold down a teaching job, in a happy marriage cut short by the war.
In 1940 he was conscripted to a Jewish labor battalion of the Hungarian Army. In 1944, the battalion was deported to Serbia, to work in the copper mines near the town of Bor. After a brutal forced march back to Western Hungary, near complete exhaustion, he and his fellow prisoners were executed by their handlers. His last poem depicted the manner of his death by gunshot to the back of the neck. The manuscript was found on his body, dug up from a mass grave.
His widow survived him by nearly 70 years, became a respected teacher of language arts and stage acting. She never remarried.
At Night
Asleep is the heart, cradling fears worries and all,
Asleep near the spider’s web, the fly on the wall;
The house is quiet, not a creature astir in the dark,
Asleep the garden, in the branches of the old tree the lark,
Bees in the hive, rose beetles in blankets of petals,
In the snare of dry grains the memory of summer settles,
The moon, its flame asleep, but a cold disc in the sky;
Autumn rises and sets out on its plundering prowl.
the original (1942):
Éjszaka
Alszik a szív és alszik a szívben az aggodalom,
alszik a pókháló közelében a légy a falon;
csönd van a házban, az éber egér se kapargál,
alszik a kert, a faág, a fatörzsben a harkály,
kasban a méh, rózsában a rózsabogár,
alszik a pergő búzaszemekben a nyár,
alszik a holdban a láng, hideg érem az égen;
fölkel az ősz és lopni lopakszik az éjben.
Here is another verse translation, the original by a contemporary of Radnóti, also a melancholy celebration of nature and the passage of time:
