In Budapest no literate person can grow up without some sense of the Krúdy mystique that still hovers in the air, and harks back to the latter-day, "peacetime" splendors of the Monarchy that evaporated, along with so very much else, around 1918.
Sándor Weöres wrote
many poems for children, and many more that sound like children's poems
but are equally appreciated by adults, like the one above, absurd and
nonsensical, playful and innocent in tone, yet deadly serious.
Since 1964, Hungary has celebrated the Day of Poetry each year on 11 April, the birthday of Attila József, whom many Hungarians consider their greatest poet of the 20th century. On this occasion, Litera asked some poets to define what we talk about when we talk about poetry.