(Translated by Ágnes Csonka) The Secret Life of Sculptures
The secret life of sculptures begins at midnight. In the darkness of the museum storeroom blisters, boils, abscesses swarm the marble. Apart from the infection, they have nothing else to do with life. But the chiselled wound heals, the painted cut fades, small stains eat the skin, spew the epithelium, and inside the grey husk of the odour the marble thickens, sags. The brutality of synaesthesia. Equip the body with an epidemic! The mechanical orgy of the plague: what a beauty, a small masterpiece. Inside the inlay of stains the bones of a strange, modern legend: the atrophy of muscles can be recounted now. How the rapacious body richens, revealing its reserves, like an exhibitionist leather coat the living material in its worn spots. Oh, what do the smooth manners of the fastidious Greeks know about the dignity of proliferation, the rhetoric of rufousness? Unlike legend, myth needs no daubing, myth needs no treatment: do anything to it, it has too much untainted material inside, which is unable to feel shame even at night.
Zoltán Csehy (Bratislava, 1973): poet, translator published five collection of poems, translated into Hungarian the works of Strato of Sardis, Cicero, Quintilianus, Petrarca, Martialis, Pasolini and Martin C. Putna etc. He published the monography on the history of the queer Hungarian poetry (Sodoma and its Environs), wrote a guide of the contemporary opera (Experimentum Mundi), and two books on neolatin literature.