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| Willy Pogány |
frost does not thaw,
there are no reunions,
no well wishes,
no spring day,
gentle breeze,
no sighs of relief,
nor encouraging smiles,
where you are not.
Where you are,
I have two gates.
One for hell, and one for heaven.
If I am asleep, I have no choice
it is hell every time
and the beauty of pleasure and opportunity
turns into ashes and black dust quickly.
But sometimes when my heart is carried
on a strong invisible wind
the choice is not difficult to make.
As soon as I reach for the gate of heaven
the light which reaches back
is exceedingly bright.
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