A poem on theater

As the curtain goes up on the space that dwarfs man, hundreds of keen eyes pierce the hollow of the stage. Phenomena rustle there inside, glowing in an illumined night, colors grow lovelier, metallic, palaces of words spring up. The play draws us irresistibly, and leaving we look at one another, because in the other we see that gentle one who was king in the play.

Translated from the Hungarian by Jascha Kessler with Maria Korosy

Share this story:

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK