Bázis – Hungarian Association of Literature and Arts in Slovakia is an association for autunomous, independent literature, art and science in Slovakia.

Call for papers: Expanding Horizons: Krasznahorkai and World Literature:

Zoltán Csehy‘s poems can be read in the anthology Áthajlás – Enjambment (Helikon, 2026), translated by Joe Váradi, which offers a selection of contemporary Hungarian poetry in English. Photos: Joe Váradi’s Facebook page.

Works by the members of Bázis Erika Szőke, Richard Aradský, and Csilla Nagy on display at the contemporary Slovakian art exhibition BLŠÁK. Date: Saturday, January 31, 2026, 6:00 p.m. Location: Dom umenia – House of Arts, 2nd floor of the NOC building, Nám. SNP 12, Bratislava. The exhibition can be viewed until February 8, 2026. […]

Now it is my turn to receive the question from the Bazis: What will you work on next week? And I cannot answer it. I cannot interpret the question at all. At least I cannot apply it to myself in any part. Work? I haven’t had a job in decades — I mean no ordinary […]

Mónika Dánél’s study, Chapter 9 Poetical and Institutional Nomadism: Figures of In-betweenness in the Hungarian Neo-Avant-Garde, has been published in the Brill volume A Hundred Years of Avant-Gardes. For more information: https://brill.com/display/title/71958.

[My darling is a weary traveler] My darling is a weary traveler. Able to bloomin the most unexpected moments, and when she does,she sheds her tepid petals, her swirling seeds,her wispy fluffs. She can’t keep up with me.At such times, she sucks out my fear, poison from a wound.Nutrients and spiritual photosynthesis.She suspects where I’ll […]

A creative game, truly three-dimensional,and we can run in the fresh air while we play it.We walk around the woods and gather upevery sturdy piece in a sack, and then we decidewhere this or that piece of flesh can go.The severed torso is already a good start.We can stick a left arm to it,then a […]

You can see everything you need from the rise of the bathtub. The ventilation window is ajar, just enough for the excesssteam to escape, to keep the breathing from tending to critical.The bathroom mirror, in it you see the door, not me.The eye can sweep boldly over the square tiles,nothing starts on them, the view […]

András Gerevich‘s short story Generational Cycles, translated by Cassidy Baker, has been published on Hungarian Literature Online. The full text can be read on the HLO website.

For Ádám Nádasdy, at 75 What if the sole lamp burns out,and by morning this splendid palace of darknessis just a burnt-out factory building?What if the slender sonnet begins to swell,and its own inertiaeats away at the paper’s integrity,and the insatiable material eventually tears?What if the body finds its way backto the old footprints, but […]

The crocodile sleeps with a yawning mouth.Between his teeth, one can see into the deep, into the abdominal cavity.The otter, as if entering a wet cave, swims into it.The jaws are made of stone, a solid opening.One which never closes, which is kept open by surprise.The otter doesn’t need a lamp, a cable, a rivet, […]

From: Book of Colors (A little Hungarian Jarman)[1] [1] This cycle’s overall pattern was inspired by the oeuvre of Derek Jarman, particularly his work entitled Chroma. The cycle of poems contains citations and motifs of his work. We launched this project with the support of the Kult Minor – Fund for the Support of National Minority Culture. […]

You think you’ve seen it all. The desert is sizeable, anything can turn up,baby hair, mining camps,sunscreen, breastfed mutants,literally, a projected sunset,beach chairs forgotten outside,et cetera. How far away is that toothless gas jockey,the one who foretold your wailing loneliness.It was written all over his stupid face,close up.But you, at this crucial turning point,couldn’t bear […]

They lost the key to the bedroom, and thus, they barricade the door so the kids won’t peer in. At first, they pull away sleepily. Then one hand travels, searching beneath the sheets, and both bodies quiver like a harp before they fall into each other greedily. They tear at each other now too, twenty […]