![\"\"](\"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/08\/Thomas.jpg\" "\\"Thomas\\"")
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\u00a0Stateless<\/strong><\/p>\n Adapted from the Renaissance French of Francois Villon <\/em> <\/p>\n I’ve proudly wrapped my dazzling sky around me<\/p>\n yet I have found one faithful friend: the fog.<\/p>\n In banquet halls I’ve heard my hunger howling.<\/p>\n By fires, I have endured the test of frost.<\/p>\n I am a prince of human kind: I’ve reached out<\/p>\n and to my thirsty lips, the mud has swelled<\/p>\n \u2013\u2028My paths are marked by wilting wildflowers: even<\/p>\n the festive seasons wither from our breath.<\/p>\n I stare surprised in disbelief when genial<\/p>\n sunshine holds my frame in warm caress.<\/p>\n And thus across three continents I’ve travelled<\/p>\n and been despised and welcomed everywhere.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I’ve wrestled with the storms on shrivelled wastelands.<\/p>\n My dress: a leaf that graced a bygone tree.<\/p>\n And nothing’s clearer for me than night’s fragrance<\/p>\n and nothing darker than high noontide’s bleach.<\/p>\n My rising sobs have burst in wary taverns<\/p>\n but in the graveyards I have laughed my fill,<\/p>\n and all I own are things I’ve long discarded<\/p>\n and thus I’ve come to value everything.<\/p>\n Upon my stubborn curls, the spell of autumn<\/p>\n collects its silver while, a child at heart,<\/p>\n I cross this freezing landscape never pausing,<\/p>\n and live despised and welcomed everywhere.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Triumphant stars erect their vast cathedral<\/p>\n above me, and dew calms my feet below<\/p>\n as I pursue my fleeing god in grief<\/p>\n and sense my world through every pore in joy.<\/p>\n I’ve rested on the peaks of many mountains.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve sweltered with the captive quarry-slaves.<\/p>\n And at my cost, I\u2019ve learned to shun the towers<\/p>\n of state and curse our rulers\u2019 power games.<\/p>\n My share of life has been the worst and best,<\/p>\n and thus I’ve come to find an equal ease<\/p>\n in squalor and beneath the whitest pillars,<\/p>\n guest despised and welcomed everywhere.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I have no state, no home \u2013 nor choice but freedom.<\/p>\n Between my legs, the playful wind alone<\/p>\n blows a merry duet with my arse.<\/p>\n I wish that I could quell the foolish fears of<\/p>\n the local folks, that they would look at me<\/p>\n beyond my status, and would prize my gift,<\/p>\n this hoard of words I\u2019ve brought to share with them.<\/p>\n The time may come when all my words will rhyme<\/p>\n and I will dip my pen in molten gold\u2028.<\/p>\n ..before I find a restful spot beneath<\/p>\n some wizened thicket, and remain forever<\/p>\n a voice despised and welcomed, everywhere.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Thomas Orsz\u00e1g-Land<\/strong> is a poet and award-winning foreign correspondent.\u00a0 His next book will be THE SURVIVORS: Holocaust \u00a0Poetry for Our Time,<\/em> to be published by Smokestack\/England \u00a0in 2014.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Note: Villon the vagabond was one of Europe\u2019s first modern poets.\u00a0 Faludy, a Jewish-Hungarian master, spent some of his best writing years in exile or political imprisonment. This poem about the massive Westward flow of abused stateless migrants that characterises the 21st century is dedicated to The Exiled Writers Ink! organization of London.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Image: A contemporary image of Francois Villon,from the first decades of modern printing<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u00a0Stateless Adapted from the Renaissance French of Francois Villon (b. 1431) & the Hungarian of Gy\u00f6rgy Faludy (1910-2006) I’ve proudly wrapped my dazzling sky around me yet I have found one faithful friend: the fog. In banquet halls I’ve heard my hunger howling. By fires, I have endured the test […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3055","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3055","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3055"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3055\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3058,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3055\/revisions\/3058"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3055"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3055"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3055"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n (b. 1431) & the Hungarian of Gy\u00f6rgy Faludy (1910-2006)<\/em><\/p>\n