Once upon a time
There was a lonely wolf
Lonelier than the angels.
He happened to come to a village
He fell in love with the first house he saw.
Already he loved its walls
The caresses of its bricks.
But the windows stopped him.
In the room sat people,
Apart from God, nobody ever
Found them so beautiful
As this child-like beast.
So at night he went into the house,
He stopped in the middle of the room
And never moved from there anymore.
He stood all through the night, with wide eyes,
And on into the morning when he was beaten to death.
(Translated from the Hungarian by Ted Hughes and János Csokrois)