" The poet and his age"- my translation, an extract
“ Void is my soul. To the mother, the big Void, would fly, As a balloon to its basket, My soul to my body I’ll tie. This isn’t real, or hallucination, It is called, sublimation... My instincts into a cry…”
Attila Jozsef
Free · every Monday
Get the Weekly English Kit 📬
New words, one handy idiom, and a 2-minute quiz — delivered to your inbox to keep your streak alive.