It's snowing, it's raining, the grele falls in torrent.

It's snowing, it's raining, 

it's snowing, it's raining, the hail falls in torrent.

Everything is covered with muck of ruddy loam

Buffaloes hurtle down the mountain.

Soon, rock will not tremble any more under their hoofs.

Here is passage where the retarded shall fall under our arrows.

The others shall call them, once arrived in the lowland.

 We shall laugh, we shall dance. We shall live on their dying.

Laszlo Mindszenti
" twelve poemes and some paintings "

lhttp.// mindszenti.com

http://www.artabus.com/mindszenti/