(Tarot, Major Arcana 12.)
by Laszlo Aranyi (Frater Azmon)
He paid. Urinated next to the bowl. Shit spattered in his pants.
(Again, a creepy event from Hungary.)
The fourth monosandalos of the ulcerous continent,
the one sandal man from the north
arrives dancing like a clown,
as if he’d somersault over his own shadow.
What is to be said shall be stretching a bit later. It’s filthy,
Finally, it solidifies and shaped by its fragmentation.
From the background the outline of a cheerful
hanged man appears,
the rope is looped around his ankle, he’s hanging upside down
he doesn’t wish to stand on the ground like a man.
Every sacrifice is selfish, every Redeemer is a liar.
Nests of cunning tyranny: existing subordinate and
The country is a public scaffold. „They have
brought whores for Eleusis
Corpses are set to banquet…”
The crippled executioner’s butchering drunkenly,
Food scrapsare clotted in his mustache…
Redemption is the disgusting phlegm of the millennia,
every victim is a liar.
At the end, earth allows him to return
to the aquatic world.
Translated by Gabor Gyukics