From the hills of Buda

Budapest has a strange way of getting under your skin. The very first time I visited the city, it was hot, humid and the air was thick with exhaust. The streets were full of litter and there was no room for plants or trees. I cannot say I did not like it, but the impression was not overwhelming.

Then I became to know her better, her shady groves, underpasses, the quiet of Buda, the rustle of Pest, the little shops where a girl wearing way too much makeup will cook you a lángos you would be wiser not to eat. Yet you are tipsy enough to brave it.

And I cannot remember exactly when I fell in love, just that one day I was missing her velvety nights, be they pierced by shouts on the street and the constant smell of urine. Nobody is perfect.

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From the hills of Buda
To the sewers of Pest
    When one day you see me again
    Will I walk as I did then
Your streets my Budapest

Trams dash on the Körút(1)
I trace the footsteps of men
    the Duna(2) has torn into you
    the flow that has broken us two
I will follow her every bend

Will I float back to your island
Margit(3) - your breathing heart
    Where once I bided my time
    Will ever again I arrive
At Keleti pályaudvar(4)

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1. Körút [IPA: køruːt] literally round street. Here referring to a main street circling from the Buda side to the Pest side.
2. Hungarian name for Danube
3. Refers to the Margaret island, a large park in the middle of Danube. The Hungarian name is Margit-sziget.
4. [keleti paːjaudvar] Eastern train station. One of the main stations in Budapest.