| TO THE TRANSLATION OF THE SONG TEXT | CONTENTS | Hungarian Music since 1945 |
| 1a) Reap, honey, reap, |
| I will pay you your pence; |
| If I should not pay you, |
| My dearest will. |
| 1b) A peacock alighted |
| Upon the County Hall, |
| But brought no release |
| For the prisoners. |
| 1c) Where are you off to, O orphans three? |
| Off into exile, I am going. |
| Rise up, rise up, mother dear: |
| My dress of mourning is torn. |
| II/1 A rosemary bush that grows on the snow-capped rainbow-mountain |
| Does not like the place (and) wants to go away, |
| It must be moved from there and in a new place planted. |
| It must be moved from there and in a new place planted. |
| 2d) New Light was revealed, |
| Erring of old abated. |
| The Word of God way revealed |
| And to us was newly given. |
| 2e) Bless us, O Lord God the Father, |
| Shield us, O Son of the living God, Lord Jesus Christ; |
| Englighten us, O Lord God the Holy Ghost, the Comforter, |
| This day and at all times in our lives. |
| O Death, carry thou me off, |
| (And) let my only one live, |
| Let my little Lord remain |
| (And) may the world fear Him! |
| 2a) Gracious Mistress of the angels, |
| Glorious Mother of Lord Jesus, |
| Queen of Heaven, |
| Open Gates of Paradise. |
| 2b) This day into high Heaven |
| Into an angelic beautiful and happy home, |
| Was the Virgin received, in bridal state, |
| Into the splendid abode of God. |
| 2c) Queen of the angels, |
| Glorious Mother of Lord Jesus, |
| August Mistress of Heaven, |
| Open Gates of Paradise. |
| 2d) Ye lieutenants that are in the armies, |
| Ye that hold the Christian faith, |
| If ye wish your cause to win, |
| Listen to this and learn what follows. |
| {242.} 2e) Behind the gardens of Bolhás, Kata, |
| Many are the paths, Kata, |
| Every swain does one thing: |
| He goes through it to his love, Kata. |
| 3a) After the accession of many kings |
| King Ahab became the king, |
| Who did not walk with God, |
| But openly served the god Baal. |
| 3b) Remember, O Lord, what is come upon us: |
| Consider, and behold our reproach. |
| For all our sins, O Lord, we are chastised by thee, |
| Therefore we need to cry out unto thee day and night. |
| 4 Let us abide by the true faith unto the last, |
| Though we have to live in poverty on this earth, |
| Endure much disgrace for its sake; for finally we must die. |
| 5 Do not come to see me, darling, in the night, |
| I can see you better in daytime, (so) come (then). |
| If you will visit in daytime, |
| I shall fear no one; |
| People who’ll be envious, |
| You’d better steer clear of them. |
| 6 A duckling is bathing in a black pool, |
| Preparing to join its mother in Poland. |
| IV/1 Gaffer, gaffer, which is the way to Becskerek? |
| Master, master, this is the way to Becskerek. |
| 2a) Come, let us remember the wondrous power of Eternal God |
| By which He brought the Magyars of yore out of Scythia |
| and brought them into Hungary |
| As he had earlier brought the Jewish people out of distress, |
| from king Pharaoh’s grip. |
| 2b) Come, let us now remember the great things (that came to pass), |
| The great peace of the sons of God |
| And the strong faith of our forefathers, |
| So we may never forget those things. |
| 2c) In olden times, under the Old Law, there was in Jerusalem |
| A mighty king, grand and haughty, |
| {243.} Who callously ordered all Jews |
| To be put to death. |
| Forgive me, O Lord God, the sins of my youth, |
| My many unbelieving way and loathsome iniquities. |
| Obliterate its hideousness (and) all its treachery, |
| Ease the burden on my soul. |
| I worship thee, O invisible Deity, |
| Humanity concealed in the shape of bread |
| Although human sensitivity cannot observe |
| Thy presence. |
| We worship three, O invisible Deity, |
| Humanity concealed in the shape of bread |
| Although human sensitivity cannot observe |
| Thy presence. |
| 3a) Ye many drunkards, listen to (this rhyme about) your morals |
| About the sin you committed in your drunkenness against |
| God. |
| For you are apt to forget your God. |
| 3b) Hark ye to a miracle, one of many miracles, |
| (Of) How ye have lost Temesvár of the Marches, |
| In it you have lost good István Losonczi |
| Along with many brave warriors; feel ye sorrow for his death. |
| 3c) Ye Hungarians, worship ye God, |
| And be ye deeply grateful unto Him; |
| Especially ye who dwell this side of the Tisza: |
| Speak many kind things to the brave defenders of Eger. |
| I laid me down on the high plateau, |
| My little bay mare was stolen from my side; |
| She’s been stolen, but it’s no grave loss: |
| A hundred melons will yield up her price. |
| 4a) Argirus wanders over hill and dale, |
| Across woods and over crags and in dreary places. |
| He wanders alone, save one servant |
| Whom he takes with him as travelling companion. |
| 4b) Fearful disaster has overtaken Pannonia; |
| Like swelling waves of the ocean |
| {244.} By the flood of much trouble and sorrow is she surrounded, |
| For one of ther heroes has perished to-day. |
| 5a) Sorrowful is my parting from thee, |
| O blessed Hungary, I must bid farewell to thee; |
| Who knows when I shall dwell in fair Buda (again)? |
| 5b) Who would not believe, or who would hate, |
| Her mellifluous, amorous speech |
| And protestations, |
| Seeing her tears and her submissive lovely form? |
| She certainly would deceive whoever he may be |
| That does not know her artful ways. |
| VI/1c) Return at last from your hiding |
| And may you find release at long last, |
| My grief-consumed soul. |
| I find no good in anything now, |
| Since damage has been done to my heart. |
| The tide may turn yet, |
| The danger pass, |
| (Nothing matters but that) you stay alive, stay alive, |
| And remain in good health. |
| 1d) Whither away, my love, fleeing from me, fleleing from me? |
| Who will pity you in the strange lands? |
| Who, if you happen to fall sick, will take care of you? |
| 2 Sad it was for me |
| To have been born into this world, |
| Since I have to suffer things |
| I hoped not to know. |
| 3r) Little birdie Argirus will not alight on every treebranch |
| VII/1a) The time is come, the world is fulfilled; |
| Hail, Mary, Blessed Virgin, |
| Mother of God, gold of our hearts, |
| Holy Patroness of Hungary. |
| Comfort thou our nation, |
| Lift up our hearts to thee, |
| Accept this our praise with a good heart. |
| 1b) O Jesus, lovely rose born of a virgin |
| Whom my heart finds placed in a crib; |
| {245.} O Jesus, my Holy Betrothed, |
| Be present in my heart, my darling Beloved. |
| 2 O Day of grief, of lamentation |
| And of black mourning, of heart-rending sorrow! |
| What a multitude bewail and bitterly weep |
| And grieve for the death of such a noble lord. |
| 3a) When Jesus’ mother, the Blessed Virgin, |
| Stood weeping at the cross, |
| Seeing how great was the agony |
| Of her dying holy Son, |
| Lamenting, she spake thus, |
| Lamenting, she spake thus. |
| 3b) Let us praise anew the Apostle Saint Peter |
| By celebrating his feast with good cheer. |
| We long to go to thee, |
| Jesus our Saviour. |
| Have mercy upon us, |
| Be our redeemer. |
| O Saint Peter, absolve us of our sins, |
| Ask the Lord’s forgiveness for our sins. |
| Jesus, Holy Son of God, Saviour of sinners. |
| 5 O Lord, have mercy on us, Christ, have mercy. |
| O Heavenly Father, have mercy on us. |
| O Mary, holy Mother of God, pray for us sinners, |
| O Mary, precious lovely rose. |
| VIII/1 Soldiers are no longer esteemed as highly |
| As the kuruc fighters were in olden times. |
| Is it befitting to dignity |
| That our youth, young Hungarians, are held in low esteem? |
| Come lads, let us join the army, |
| Let us pass in merriment the days of this wretched world. |
| We have good times, a splendid life, couldn’t be better: |
| So come and join the army all who love us. |
| When the noble Castle of Huszt, in Máramaros, |
| Was under our dominion |
| Then was Hungary a mighty power. |
| {246.} (Then) I saw with these eyes of mine |
| The honoured German in his trunk-breeches |
| Run for dear life. |
| Woe betide us Hungarians, |
| Who have risen in rebellion, |
| (Woe betide) the bald skulls of István Zákány, Mátyás Szuhay, |
| A nation of Hungarians with capacious pipes but scant tobacco. |
| Kecskemét turns out her dashing recruits, |
| Raises her red standard outside the inn. |
| Come here, young men, enlist: |
| Eight years will not last for ever. |
| The brave cavarly have a good time, |
| Dining and wining in their tents, with not a care in the world, |
| Oh, what a life, what splendid life! One couldn’t wish for a better life. |
| Let only those who love me join the army. |
| I too lived at one time as it pleased me, |
| I thought my luck was happiness, |
| Bnut do you see what trouble I have come to? Don’t you pity me? |
| My luck , my cheerful spirits are banished from me. |
| 2a) Rákóczi, Bezerédi, |
| Famous leaders of the Hungarians, |
| Ah! Alas! O Hungarian nation, |
| You are withering away like flowers, |
| Gripped in the talons, the talons of the Eagle, |
| You are withering away like flowers. |
| 2b) Ah! Rákóczi, Bercsényi, |
| Noble leaders of the Hungarian heroes! |
| Their picked warriors, |
| What has become of them? Where have they gone? |
| Great Hungarian warriors of old |
| What has become of them? |
| They who were respected by all other nations, |
| And, indeed, whose very names were dreaded? |
| {247.} Oh, where are they? |
| Once their fame was spread abroad everywhere among the nations. |
| Poor Hungarian people, |
| When will you be whole? |
| You have become as Fragments. |
| Poor Hungarian people, |
| When will you be whole? |
| You have become as Fragments. |
| Ah! Rákóczi, Bercsényi, Bezerédi, |
| Noble leaders of Hungarian heroes! |
| Their picked warriors |
| What has become of them? Where have they gone? |
| Alas! Poor Hungarian people, |
| The enemy tears and rends you: |
| To what state you have been reduced, perishable Fragments! |
| You have been reduced to Fragments. |
| Gripped in the talons of the Eagle, |
| You are withering away like flowers |
| Poor Hungarian people, |
| When will you be whole? |
| Listen, Hungarians, to what I am going to tell you. |
| Tell me, warriors, what shall I do? |
| The raving German comes sacking and pillaging, chasing all and burning all; |
| Alas! What am I to do? |
| IX/1a) I have come to journey’s end, |
| (To the end of) my pilgrimage in this world. |
| I have kept my faith, my true religion. |
| Come, Jesus Christ, give me my crown. |
| 1b) I am filled with sorrow that you should want to go away, |
| All my days I shall feel sorry for (the loss of) your person. |
| I must give myself up to death, |
| Must sacrifice myself for you, |
| Sweet love. |
| 2a) Like a little nightingale, my soft, flowing song, |
| Hum away like a honey-making little bee. |
| {248.} I fell asleep on the meadowy bank of a river, |
| I fell asleep on the meadowy bank of a river. |
| There are three kinds of flower in the wheatfield: |
| The foremost among them is the fair cornflower. |
| 2b) The King of Prussia is justly angry |
| That the enemy is campaigning in his country. |
| His neighbour is plundering his fine castles, fortresses, and people, |
| The King of Prussia is justly angry. |
| 2c) Oh, lilies, of the valley, |
| Full-blown carnations, |
| Budding marjorams. |
| If I were allowed to enter your garden |
| And to pick red roses, |
| My heart would be revived. |
| 3a) The course of my gilded times, |
| The cheer of my heart, |
| Has turned to iron, to sadness, |
| My every mood inclines to sorrow, |
| Because I’ll have to part with you, |
| Bid farewell to you. |
| 3b) Leave me alone, turbulent one, O, |
| When you are not useful, good, O, |
| Oh, oh, you tormenter of my heart, O, |
| Cease, mischief-maker, O. |
| 3c) You who fly over woods and fields, |
| Come back, sweet-singing lovely falcon, |
| Let your fine wings relax, |
| Let your tired legs stop. |
| You wound my heart, you blight my jolly spirits, |
| You shorten my life, because, for you, |
| I am ready to lay down my life. |
| 4a) Now you may go, |
| I dont’t want you any more, |
| For deceitful is your heart, |
| It has deceived me. |
| (Go and) live blithely henceforth, |
| Treacherous bird. |
| {249.} A, B, C, D, |
| He began to practise on me |
| His great cleverness, |
| His great intelligence, |
| A, B, C, D, |
| He began to practise on me. |
| 4b) My little angel, |
| My lovely birdie, |
| Here, I have come flying to you, |
| So as to please you, |
| Upon your hands, |
| Like a falcon I have alighted. |
| Go on, do it, |
| Go on, act, |
| You should judge it as my heart; |
| Darling, |
| Love, |
| I am your slave, my gracious one. |
| 5 I am not si-si-si-sick, |
| Am only l-l-l-love-lorn. |
| I love my l-l-l-love: |
| She torments my h-h-h-heart. |
| My dear neighbur-bur-bur-bour, |
| Give me a handful of l-l-l-lentils, |
| For which a gipsy wu-wu-wu-woman |
| Will tell me my good fo-fo-fo-fortune. |
| X/3a) I celestial form |
| That playest with mortals, |
| Deceitful, blind Hope |
| That appearest a Deity, |
| Whom unhappy men |
| Create for themselves |
| And worship without ceasing |
| As their guardian angel. |
| Why dost thou with honeyed lips flatter me? |
| Why dost thou still raise in my bosom |
| A dubious heart? |
| Stay far away and keep to thy own devices: |
| At first you encouraged me, |
| I believed your pretty words, |
| But you have deceived me. |
| XIII/1 My forebears gave |
| Many heroes to this woeful homeland. |
| All the same I am forgotten, |
| All the same I am forgotten, |
| (And) upon this rock lie buried |
| Lie buried. |
| 3a) O my little son, Hush! Hush! |
| Don’t arouse him from his sleep! |
| Seelp quietly, sweetly, my angel, my angel. |
| Sleep quietly, sweetly, my angel, Oh my angel, Oh. |
| Come down from heavens. |
| And protect my poor child, Oh guardian angel. |
| Ah, in happier times you used to sleep on my bosom |
| And, waking from your dream, would smile on me, angel. |
| Sleep quietly, ah, sleep quietly, |
| Ah, dream sweetly! |
| Ah, dream, my celestial angel! |
| XIV/1 A branch of the weeping willow droops over a flower; |
| You are breaking my heart, pretty daughter of the village. |
| You are breaking my heart, but you do not care: |
| You have a lovelier flower than I am. |
| 2 There is but one lovely girl in all the world: |
| My dainty rose, my dove. |
| God loves me very much |
| Because He has given you to me. |
| Last night I went to pluck feathers, |
| my rose spied upon me; |
| She pesters me about |
| Who I was talking with last night. |
| XV/2 Thou art our One God, righteous in judgment, |
| Vengeance is Thine for those that do evil, |
| Thou shalt not bless them, trusting in vain things, |
| Thou shalt take them away as with a whirlwind. |
| As for the righteous, Thou dost preserve them, |
| They that shew mercy shelter find in Thee. |
| Those that are humble Thou dost raise on high. |
| Those that are mighty scatter’st and destroyest. |
| Whom for a space Thy wrath has chastised, |
| And has like silver tried in the furnace. |
| Forth from the fire Thou suddenly tak’st him, |
| Once more in honour Thou wilt raise him on high! |
| These words King David wrote in his Psalter, |
| Fifty and fifth of prayers and of praises, |
| And for the faithful bitterly grieving, |
| As consolation, I from it made this song. |
(Psalmus Hungaricus
translated by Edward J. Dent)
| TO THE TRANSLATION OF THE SONG TEXT | CONTENTS | Hungarian Music since 1945 |