| 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 |