Kölcsey Ferenc
Isten, áldd meg a magyart
Jó kedvvel, bôséggel,
Nyújts feléje védô kart,
Ha küzd ellenséggel;
Bal sors akit régen tép,
Hozz rá víg esztendôt,
Megbûnhödte már e nép
A múltat s jövendôt!
Ôseinket felhozád
Kárpát szent bércére,
Általad nyert szép hazát
Bendegúznak vére.
S merre zúgnak habjai
Tiszának, Dunának,
Árpád hôs magzatjai
Felvirágozának.
Értünk Kunság mezein
Ért kalászt lengettél,
Tokaj szôlôvesszein
Nektárt csepegtettél.
Zászlónk gyakran plántálád
Vad török sáncára,
S nyögte Mátyás bús hadát
Bécsnek büszke vára.
Hajh, de bûneink miatt
Gyúlt harag kebledben,
S elsújtád villámidat
Dörgô fellegedben,
Most rabló mongol nyilát
Zúgattad felettünk,
Majd töröktol rabigát
Vállainkra vettünk.
Hányszor zengett ajkain
Ozman vad népének
Vert hadunk csonthalmain
Gyôzedelmi ének!
Hányszor támadt tenfiad
Szép hazám kebledre,
S lettél magzatod miatt
Magzatod hamvedre!
Bújt az üldözött s felé
Kard nyúl barlangjában,
Szerte nézett s nem lelé
Honját a hazában,
Bércre hág és völgybe száll,
Bú s kétség mellette,
Vérözön lábainál,
S lángtenger fölötte.
Vár állott, most kôhalom,
Kedv és öröm röpkedtek,
Halálhörgés, siralom
Zajlik már helyettek.
S ah, szabadság nem virul
A holtnak vérébol,
Kínzó rabság könnye hull
Árvánk hô szemébôl!
Szánd meg isten a magyart
Kit vészek hányának,
Nyújts feléje védô kart
Tengerén kínjának.
Bal sors akit régen tép,
Hozz rá víg esztendôt,
Megbünhôdte már e nép
A múltat s jövendôt!
(1823)
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in English:
God bless the Hungarian
(singular, though it could be plural, they wrote it in singular,
to express the oneness of Hungarians)
With good mood and abundance,
Stretch toward him protecting arm, if he fights/struggles with enemy;
Who's been torn by left fate (meaning: evil fate) for long,
Bring on him happy year ,
This people has already expiated
The past and the future!
You brought up our ancestors to the holy crag of Kárpát,
By You has the blood of Bendeguz
(ben-deh-gooz) obtained beautiful homeland.
And where the froths of Tisza (tih-sah) and Duna (doo-nah) roar,
the valiant seeds of Árpád (á= as the vowel sound of 'I') are flourishing
(decking out with flowers).
For us on the fields of Kúnság (koon-shawg)
You swayed ripe ears of wheat,
on the vine-branches of Tokaj (toh-kawy)
You dropped nectar.
Our flag You often plant
on the trench of fierce Turk,
and the proud castle of Bécs (Vienna)
sighed (because of) the woeful army of Mátyás.
Oh, but because of our sins
Wrath kindled in Your bosom,
and You flung Your ligtnings
In the thundering skies,
Now the arrows of the predator Mongol
You roared above us,
Then from the Turk we took the yoke of slavery
On our shoulders.
How many times has sounded victory song
on the lips of the fierce people of Ozman
On the heaps of the bones of our beaten armies!
How many times has your own son,
My beautiful homeland,
fallen upon (to attack) your bosom
And because of your Seed,
you became your Seed's
cinerary urn?
The pursued hid,
and a sword reached toward him in his den,
He looked around ,
and couldn't find his home in the homeland,
He climbs the crag,
descends into the valley,
Sadness and doubt are with him,
Sea of blood at his feet,
And sea of flames above him.
A castle stood: now
a heap of stones;
Good mood and joy flew:
Death rattle and lamentation
sounding instead of them now.
And oh, freedom is not flourishing
out of the blood of the dead,
Tears of tormenting bondage falls
from the hot eyes of our Abandoned one.
Have mercy, God, on the Hungarian,
who is tossed by disasters,
Stretch toward him protecting arm
on/for his sea of torment,
Whom left fate has long torn,
Bring happy year on him,
This people has already expiated
The past and the future!
Translation and annotation by Terézia
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Original English Translation:
Translated by WILLIAM N. LOEW 1881
O, my God, the Magyar bless
With Thy plenty and good cheer!
With Thine aid his just cause press,
Where his foes to fight appear.
Fate, who for so long did'st frown,
Bring him happy times and ways;
Atoning sorrow hath weighed down
Sins of past and future days.
By Thy help our fathers gained
Kárpát's proud and sacred height;
Here by Thee a home obtained
Heirs of Bendegúz, the knight.
Where'er Danube's waters flow
And the streams of Tisza swell
Árpád's children, Thou dost know,
Flourished and did prosper well.
For us let the golden grain
Grow upon the fields of Kún,
And let Nectar's silver rain
Ripen grapes of Tokay soon.
Thou our flags hast planted o'er
Forts where once wild Turks held sway;
Proud Vienna suffered sore
From King Mátyás' dark array.
But, alas! for our misdeed,
Anger rose within Thy breast,
And Thy lightnings Thou did'st speed
From Thy thundering sky with zest.
Now the Mongol arrow flew
Over our devoted heads;
Or the Turkish yoke we knew,
Which a free-born nation dreads.
O, how often has the voice
Sounded of wild Osman's hordes,
When in songs they did rejoice
O'er our heroes' captured swords!
Yea, how often rose Thy sons,
My fair land, upon Thy sod,
And Thou gavest to these sons,
Tombs within the breast they trod!
Though in caves pursued he lie,
Even then he fears attacks.
Coming forth the land to spy,
Even a home he finds he lacks.
Mountain, vale - go where he would,
Grief and sorrow all the same -
Underneath a sea of blood,
While above a sea of flame.
'Neath the fort, a ruin now,
Joy and pleasure erst were found,
Only groans and sighs, I trow,
In its limits now abound.
But no freedom's flowers return
From the spilt blood of the dead,
And the tears of slavery burn,
Which the eyes of orphans shed.
Pity, God, the Magyar, then,
Long by waves of danger tossed;
Help him by Thy strong hand when
He on grief's sea may be lost.
Fate, who for so long did'st frown,
Bring him happy times and ways;
Atoning sorrow hath weighed down
All the sins of all his days.
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