Legend The Story

Page 1


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This is a story of a king who used to steal chicken when he was a child‌ And now has a castle, horses and a Porsche ‌

To Lรกszlรณ & Jessica

Egyszer volt, hol nem volt ....

There are humans who live next to nature with nature and don’t need money, mentions, or inventions that addict and subject subjects There are people who talk to the snow to the horses and sit next to the fireplace drinking wine or tea talking and laughing Sometimes just looking at the fire Instead of a screen In silence

It’s unbelievable what memories can bring. Our brain. a Pandora’s box Yet instead of hope We have love To console us To unite us To bring back the smile after the hurricane of evils, pain and bitterness we gather on our path on our long road towards the unknown Unexplored Ithacas Precious islands, granting us with a peace of mind before we vanish

In fire, water, earth or air. Anywhere we came from East and west North and south It’s all the same People meeting and Working People struggling Surviving People enjoying Playing.

Happiness is in the smile of the clear eye

the teasing and the touch

Happiness is in the apples, in grapes in all kind of fruits waiting for the bite the taste the kiss giving their juices and aromas without asking anything in return

No Happiness is not found in gold, precious stones, or belongings not in the relationships that descend into banking transactions Not in the cement boxes we live Not in the metal cars we drive fast to work Instead of escape destinations Escape from the brutal, alienated cities we are imprisoned Happiness and love are in the fruits in the tales Like the tale of the seahorse and the owl or, the story of the girl who was afraid of maps In the story of the Hungarian King and the Dutch Queen and their four princesses

Travelling around the world, I met one of them ‌ The youngest princess with gold curly hair, strawberry lips and eyes of the sea. She was lying on the grass like sunshine Joyfully playing with everything and everyone around her. She told me the rest of the legend ‌ The queen died and the king remarried and had one more princess and a prince. I met them too, one day, one white day many days covered with snow

We sledged and made snow angels on the ground … I sat with the princess I met in one of my own trips of exploration I sat next to her, by the fire, drinking wine She too was on a trip of curiosity temporarily resting at the white village in the valley She lived in a beautiful yellow kúria with a cellar of tasty wines, an attic full of bats, and a collection of all kinds of things the king liked to collect The king loved gathering objects she said, objects with potential. He twisted them and gave them a new shape and use, for more people to relish He was a restless king who loved life, children, horses, wine and all liquors coming from fruits

The king and the wine by the fireplace Next to the princess, reading and talking of her adventures in Africa Of the beautiful lake in a place of no profit and no men of cruelty no women of gossip and evil like the witch who hexed the king for falling in love with the Dutch queen “She is not one of us”, she said

There are people ‌ There are still people who discriminate and hold prejudice and biases under their sleeves Under their pillows, on the tip of their tongues Bursting curses and evils Swearing distressing the people around them Not realizing how easily the curse and the evil could turn back on them

There are people and there are colors and languages and flags There are humans of different colors of different languages of different flags from different parts of earth All the same

There are people you need to remind from time to time that we are all the same Bearing the same pain, the same thoughts Just the same

But just in a world of injustice is tough hard to find Sliding and failing Melting with the snow

Justice is the legal corruption of the even more corrupted men Justice is bought and sold Justice burning in the fireplace

I am sitting and having breakfast with the princess Eating ham and jam Recalling the past Living the moment Avoiding much talk about the future and what it brings

Present How little we taste it Constantly dwelling in the past Always recalling Always Losing the moment

How tough it is to live in the present

Just the present

Cause present is the outcome of the past The gone queens and the evil witches The old curses, the old thoughts and the gossips The silent whispers of loud people Who are afraid of the unknown of the different

People who think that the rules they willfully put on their bodies like shackles should be imposed on all and obeyed by all But there is no all and all is different and all the same

The people who talk to the dogs and the horses know this yet those who have no contact with nature have no understanding of this magic

Next to the fireplace eating fruits and drinking herbs Recalling how the witch cursed the village

Little did she know And little she could do for the kingdom thrived even after the queen’s death The princess recalls the beauty of her childhood in the village of snow the village of flowers in bloom the hot summers in the house she was gifted and enjoyed at the age of fourteen. The king loved all his daughters and gave a cottage to each Thus, the kingdom expanded and stretched all over the village up on the hills in the heart of the falu next to the lake

Yet when I met him

his heart was still yearning for a house by the lake a house made of wood

A wooden house by the lake made of acacia He said “Wood grows with the people inside it” Another small castle, a wooden castle yet to be built The princess said she knew his desire for a long time A living house for wood has a soul of its own and breathes in and out with its people

The people that time has treated well

and only left wrinkles and wrinkled hands These are their only scars This, and the white hair Yet the eyes are clear and blue and the smiles untouched When it comes to life pain is intoxication and poison not easily washed by time

Time and its secrets Time and people Time and pain Vanished Smoked and Drunk

For if you don’t smoke the pain if you don’t drink the pain

all you have is bitterness and a bitter heart in a cold house of cement with no people and no warmth

Yet that is the story of another king and another queen and much bitterness with no smoke and wine but a list of responsibilities and musts that led to solitude


This is another story, a different story yet the same With much snow and beautiful rainy summers and many fruits and tastes with lots of sun, sea and sand in a distant kingdom

How many places and kingdoms How many kings and queens How many ancestors So close no matter how far Divided by the six degrees of separation they all know each other, and if they don’t, they will

The world is a snow globe and people the tiny grains of sand in its fragile hourglass shape Everything falls and everything stands up again and again In circles Like nature Cause this is nature

Like the trees in bloom

Like the naked trees with the tiny twigs Dropping the tiniest drops of rain or snow Like the yellow trees the orange leaves the red Like the pregnant trees with their descendants dropping their precious gifts for humans The wines and wealthy tables

Nature and circles Nature and time Time, people and pain

When the queen died

the birds flew to the woods to the forest to another continent, a distant land The pain was much and the winter heavy Legend has it that the oldest sister grew up fast Under her wing the younger ones Strong and intelligent, the little princess once said that ‘She can just look into your eyes and know how you feel’ Chill and independent Silent and caring

It’s interesting how silence

finds comfort and settles in experience

How experience invites and enfolds silence

Silence and the warmth of the fireplace

Holding a glass of wine. or a shot of palinka

I had many shots in my life and many wines too Some of the best were with the princess, reading and eating apples While I was writing and burning for answers

Yet, there were not many questions for everything she disclosed with a smile and no bitterness for the past with an open heart, she opened her world to me an old world an old truth the only truth of salvation

How does anyone survive without love?

Without gratitude, with no appreciation of a life both simple and complicated Happy and sad

How does one live with no life

no friends no love

It’s impossible! Bitterness is a bush

with long sharp thorns

Tearing the flesh Bleeding

Until you open up to love


Like the circles of life of nature of the trees while the cats are curling up your feet

The Siberian cats with the royal fur

The small tigers and the even smaller lions Looking into your eyes No scratching Just watching While we were reading a book about the history of humanity next to the fireplace Drinking palinka after many glasses of wine and horse riding in the valley in the forest at the end of the world covered with mist, with fog While the snow was melting outside the window

I was riding a horse Treading Trotting

while she was galloping with Jasmine in the woods Galloping and screaming in excitement

Vanishing in the mist of the forest Falling off the horse, getting back on I was with Seven next to the lake at the valley In a haze of white A veil of mist In a dream Watching the trees in the woods, the twigs letting the snowflakes fall down peacefully, slowly Observing the red tiny fruits waiting to be picked up by the human hand

Waiting to become to transform into red liquor Waiting and staring, longing for the touch Like the cat climbing on the couch waiting to be hugged to be caressed to be kissed then escape to new adventures

I remember chasing one, one night in the snow Afraid it would get lost

“They never do� the princess said That night we brought the two royal cats with us to extinguish our little invader, a tiny mouse the princess met and shared a look with for one or maybe two scarce seconds until it disappeared

We let the cats free to explore to distract our attention and reflections on history Of the former times of humanity

While I was riding at the back of a horse trying to recall the days of quest and conquer. Riding and thinking “So, this is how it feels like, and this is how it must have been this is how it was, how they explored this is what they saw the woods, the villages far, the villages close ... from the back of a horse�

How beautiful is the forest in all garments and in none How beautiful the snow and the horses How beautiful the innocence and the spoiling of children Their games and their curiosity How beautiful it is to have the heart of a child and as a gypsy

Free Of possessions

to live your life as a child

Free Of land Free Galloping The world The lakes The hills and the mountains

How beautiful is the company of the flames

and the snowflakes outside

Writing next to the fire rustling, crackling with the cat on my knees, in my arms How beautiful the sound of the sparkles the sound of the wood, the sound of the universe

Nature has music of its own The neighing of the horses, the distant barking of the dogs, the wakeup call of the rooster The drops of the melting snow of the rain the sound of the twigs in the wind and the silent melody of spiders

Nature, music and colors Light and dark, dawn and dusk Breakfast and dinner while a bottle of wine and a pen are waiting by the fireplace. While the flames are chatting with the wood and the cat is stretching

Every day I woke up in a cold dark room a sunray was sneaking though the keyhole A blinding light twinkling, inviting me to embrace a new day A shining light A sparkling light As the light of all fairy tales

The light in the keyhole at the end of a tunnel on the top of a well sealing our wishes Light rays on the royal fur Light beams and sweet talk

Every day I woke up with a feather head


Left the pain behind every day and night Remembering, recalling and forgetting letting go wishing the memories burn in the fire the memories that stroll around us like snowflakes in a snowstorm the memories that oscillate and crash on ice

I was having breakfast

with the princess and two friends Coffee, ham and jam while the cassettes were playing some old tunes Drinking wine ‘I love the sips’ she once said

I remember everything The long walk up the hill with her dog as our companion That walk on the white carpet and its golden creases from the sun The blinding sunlight on the surface of the crystal snow

Us lying on it playing with it the dog chasing us around After that we went back home for dinner

I remember all the walks and the visits I recall meeting the new queen who raised the princess treating her with love She was a woman with a good heart sparkling eyes and a warm smile I met the young princess and the little prince and shared beautiful moments Talking, playing and walking in the snow I met the grandma while making handmade jam and tasty pies Tried the traditional dishes and the sweets Talked with the grandpa just with eyes and smiles And left one cold, yet sunny day I went back home

The princess said “The cat will return to look for us when we are gone� yet there will be nobody at the veranda, or in the house Cause people just come and go from destinations to destinations While houses stay and remind us of their presence or absence

I will never forget the royal fur and naughty walk The silence and the sounds of nature I will never forget the taste of gulyรกs and the wine, the pรกlinka the people

I will never forget that I lost my flight back home and arrived one day later to my own little kingdom.

És még mindig boldogan élünk!

Legénd is a village in Nógrád County, Hungary.

Goulash (Hungarian: gulyás) is a soup of meat and vegetables usually seasoned with paprika and other spices. Originating in Hungary, goulash is a common meal predominantly eaten in Central Europe but also in other parts of Europe. It is one of the national dishes of Hungary and a symbol of the country. Pálinka is a traditional fruit spirit (or fruit brandy) in Central Europe with origins in Hungary, known under several names, and invented in the Middle Ages. *from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Egyszer volt, hol nem volt … Once upon a time Kúria = mansion Falu = village És még mindig boldogan élünk! = and we live happily still

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