{"id":1594,"date":"2015-08-04T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2015-08-03T22:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/staging.newyorkcafe.hu\/versek-a-new-york-kavehazrol-kosztolanyi-dezso-tollabol\/"},"modified":"2026-11-06T13:41:51","modified_gmt":"2026-11-06T12:41:51","slug":"poems-about-the-new-york-cafe-by-dezso-kosztolanyi","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/versek-a-new-york-kavehazrol-kosztolanyi-dezso-tollabol\/","title":{"rendered":"Poems about the New York Caf\u00e9 by Dezs\u0151 Kosztol\u00e1nyi!"},"content":{"rendered":"Hungarian literature and the history of the coffee house have been inextricably linked from the very beginning. The New York Caf\u00e9, with its unrivalled beauty, inspired many of our Hungarian poets, including Dezs\u0151 Kosztol\u00e1nyi. The following lines are also from his pen, in which both \u201eNyeh\u00f3\u201d and the caf\u00e9 feature time and again! Lose yourself in these short excerpts and get a feel for the caf\u00e9\u2019s atmosphere of yesteryear through these brief stories and observations.\n\nFor anyone who loves history and enjoys sensing the spirit of the past, these few lines are sure to bring real pleasure and will undoubtedly entice you to visit the Most Beautiful Caf\u00e9 in the World, the New York Caf\u00e9!\n<div>\n\nDezs\u0151 Kosztol\u00e1nyi (1885\u20131936) was one of the most outstanding artists of his time: a writer, poet, literary translator, critic, essayist, journalist and a leading figure of the first generation of the *Nyugat* literary circle. We can evoke the caf\u00e9\u2019s historical past through the following poems and quotations. We can experience the unique atmosphere of the era and, through Kosztol\u00e1nyi\u2019s eyes, come to understand this sense of privilege and inner conflict at the same time. Youth now gone by: plans for the future, debates and dreams, and the discussion of ideas.\n<h4><strong>Dezs\u0151 Kosztol\u00e1nyi: A S\u00e9ance at the New York Caf\u00e9<\/strong><\/h4>\nThe steam from the coffee swirls and drifts\nthrough the mist of a winter\u2019s morning,\nand there, where we once devoured on an empty stomach\nglory, tobacco and black coffee,\n\namidst women and electric lights, raging raw,\nI sense the impossible itself,\nwhimsy, adventure, my many old poems\nand the wild scent of aether from my youth.\n\nSee, you could come now, Osv\u00e1t. Perhaps death\nmight even let you go; appear at this rendezvous,\nshine forth from behind the Baroque column,\n\nlet me see them once more, in my forever wounded\nmourning, long-vanished, shining spectre,\nyour commanding, enormous spectacles.\n<h4><strong>Dezs\u0151 Kosztol\u00e1nyi: Korn\u00e9l Esti (excerpt)<\/strong><\/h4>\n\u201eThe caf\u00e9 was buzzing; the noise in the gallery grew ever louder. Amidst this raucous clamour, they felt the rhythm of their lives, the sense that they were heading somewhere, that they were moving forward. Every table, every booth was taken. Storm clouds of smoke towered above. It felt good to stretch out in this vapour, in this warm pool, thinking of nothing, just listening to the bubbling and gurgling\u2026\u201d\n<h4><strong>New York, you caf\u00e9 where I spent so much time<\/strong><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n<div>\n\nNew York, you caf\u00e9 where I spent so much time,\nlet me open your door; perhaps I may still sit down,\nthough only like a beggar resting on the kerb,\nand see what remains of me and of my surroundings.\nOn this early summer evening, whilst everyone is still having supper,\nI\u2019d drink a lukewarm evening coffee at my table,\nand, like a devout Christian, I\u2019d say an \u2018Ave Maria\u2019,\nfor my lost youth and for my old passion.\n\nOf my friends and of a divinely daring,\nwild poet who sat here with red lips,\nin a cherry-coloured waistcoat, with pitch-black hair,\nin which the comb sparkled and crackled.\nHere we sat happily, and in our angry words\nbombs lay dormant and the spirit of a new age awoke,\nwe, ragged and hungry, knights of the night,\nlike happy murderers, like murderers so young.\n\nFor happy murderers are the slayers of the hour,\nto whom divine grace has bestowed talent,\nand who idly gaze upon the green cloth of the caf\u00e9,\nacross which the billiard balls roll white.\nAnd we were happy when the sun went down,\nhere, amidst the bleak clamour, our souls took flight,\nand we directed a verse or two towards dear women,\nan innocent dove from the smoke and the light.\n\nWe waited here until dawn, and freer than God\nwe went out at daybreak onto the deserted streets,\nour healthy teeth bit into the hoarfrost,\nwe bathed sleepily in the steam-bath\u2019s foam,\nthe frost\u2019s star glistened on our threadbare coats,\nand on Doh\u00e1ny Street, with sullen lovers,\nlike pink roses, the women swayed slowly by: we felt our lives and the dark Budapest.\n\nBlessed Gypsy days of mine, blessed electricity,\nwhich even now rains down, multiplying its fierce light,\nan old scarf sways and trembles on my shirt front,\nbut your rays merely wash my face with a scowl.\nI gaze hesitantly at this bath of weary light,\nrummaging through my eyes, my sorrow unquieted,\nstirring up memories with my shifting staff,\nand watching my thinning, old locks in the mirrors.\n\nYou are the sacred haven of my heart and my words,\nyou who gave me dreams and an unknown, precious rapture,\nthe revolutionary tide has flowed beneath its peaceful bed,\nand now the pillow and the sofa are quiet once more.\nOnly the warrior stands here, who will not surrender,\nI seek the friend who often kept me here,\nI timidly tap the glass, the table\nand my heart, my heart too, to see if its voice is still the same.\n\nWhy do I still wander here? They are all asleep now,\nthose who were drowsy and once rested\nin a chair, little ones in God\u2019s bosom,\nand even the thirsty Tantalus has had his fill of water.\nI wander out more forlorn than that night-time pedlar,\nwho places a tin frog and a rattle on our table,\nand after midnight wanders wearily, a tear falling\non his face, sad with the weight of the early hours, for everyone is already weary.\n\n<\/div>\n&nbsp;","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A magyar irodalom \u00e9s a K\u00e1v\u00e9h\u00e1z t\u00f6rt\u00e9nelme a kezdetekt\u0151l egybeforrt. A p\u00e1ratlan sz\u00e9ps\u00e9g\u0171 New York K\u00e1v\u00e9h\u00e1z sz\u00e1mos magyar k\u00f6lt\u0151nket megihlette k\u00f6zt\u00fck Kosztol\u00e1nyi Dezs\u0151t is. Az \u0151 toll\u00e1b\u00f3l sz\u00e1rmaznak az al\u00e1bbi sorok is, amelyben egyt\u0151l egyig szerepet kap a &#8222;Nyeh\u00f3&#8221; a K\u00e1v\u00e9h\u00e1z is! Merengjen el a r\u00f6vid sz\u00f6vegr\u00e9szletekben, \u00e9s \u00e9rezze \u00e1t a K\u00e1v\u00e9h\u00e1z egykori hangulat\u00e1t is a r\u00f6vid t\u00f6rt\u00e9netek, megjegyz\u00e9sek seg\u00edts\u00e9g\u00e9vel.<\/p>\n<p>Aki szereti a t\u00f6rt\u00e9nelmet, szereti \u00e9rezni a m\u00falt szellem\u00e9t, annak ez a n\u00e9h\u00e1ny sor igaz\u00e1n \u00f6r\u00f6met okozhat, \u00e9s biztosan elcs\u00e1b\u00edtja majd a Vil\u00e1g Legszebb K\u00e1v\u00e9h\u00e1z\u00e1ba, a New York K\u00e1v\u00e9h\u00e1zba!<\/p>","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1218,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1594","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-muveszek"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1594","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1594"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1594\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3943,"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1594\/revisions\/3943"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1218"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1594"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1594"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newyorkcafe.hu\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1594"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}