“O indeed I die for, |
Mother dear, my mother, |
Helen Greek, my fair one, |
Waist of hers so lithesome, |
Waist of hers so lithesome, |
Ruddy cheeks so wholesome, |
Ruddy cheeks so wholesome, |
Lips of hers so playsome, |
Lips of hers so playsome, |
Buttocks round and buxom, |
Eyes of hers like flax bloom, |
Helen Greek, my fair one.” |
And between them will be, |
Magic mill a-seeing, |
Helen Greek your true love.“ |
|
“Dearest, sweetest mother, |
Give me leave to go for |
Magic mill a-seeing.“ |
“Do not go, my daughter, |
Helen Greek, my fair one, |
’Tis a net they’re casting |
For the fish to catch in.” |
|
“O indeed I die for, |
Mother dear, my mother, |
Helen Greek, my fair one, |
Waist of hers so lithesome, |
Waist of hers so lithesome, |
Ruddy cheeks so wholesome, |
Ruddy cheeks so wholesome, |
Lips of hers so playsome, |
Lips of hers so playsome, |
Buttocks round and buxom, |
Eyes of hers like flax bloom, |
Helen Greek, my fair one.” |
|
{523.} “Do not die, my dear son,
|
László Zetelaki! |
1 shall have all made you |
Wondrous magic tower, |
Breadthwise river Danube |
With its walls will touch it, |
Heightwise will it reach up |
Heaven’s highest summit. |
Maidens, comely virgins |
Sure they must come there for |
Magic tower seeing, |
And between them will be |
Magic tower seeing, |
Helen Greek your true love.” |
|
“Sweetest, dearest mother, |
Give me leave to go for |
Magic tower seeing.” |
|
“Do not go, my daughter, |
Helen Greek, my fair one, |
’Tis a net they’re casting |
Barbel for to catch in.” |
|
“O indeed I die for, |
Mother dear, my mother, |
Helen Greek, my fair one, |
Waist of hers so lithesome, |
Waist of hers so lithesome, |
Ruddy cheeks so wholesome, |
Ruddy cheeks so wholesome, |
Lips of hers so playsome, |
Lips of hers so playsome, |
Buttocks round and buxom, |
Eyes of hers like flax bloom |
Helen Greek, my loved one.” |
|
“Do not die, my dear son, |
László Zetelaki! |
I shall have all made you |
Such a magic hand-mill |
As the first mill-stone will |
Cast forth pearls the purest, |
Second of the mill-stones |
Cast forth silver farthings, |
And the third will cast forth |
Swishing fine silk fabric. |
|
“Go and die, my son dear, |
László Zetelaki! |
Sure they must come there for, |
Famous, fairest maidens, |
Magic dead a-seeing, |
’Mong the women will be, |
Magic dead a-seeing, |
Helen Greek, your true love.” |
|
“O my dearest mother, |
Give me leave to go for |
Magic dead a-seeing, |
Magic dead to see who |
Gave for me his ghost up.” |
“Do not go, my daughter, |
Magic dead a-seeing, |
’Tis a net they’re casting |
Barbel for to catch in, |
Helen Greek, the fair one, |
From her mother snatching.“ |
  *
|
But she would not heed her, |
Hies she to her chamber, |
There she goes to dress up, |
Slips her blue silk gown on, |
Puts a pair of red and |
Iron-studded boots on; |
On her head she ties a |
Scarlet silken head-cloth, |
Down the front she ties a |
Clean and snow-white apron. |
|
“Rise, my son, rise now, |
László Zetelaki! |
For the one you died for |
There she comes the road up; |
Rise my son, arise now, |
László Zetelaki! |
For the one you died for |
There she comes the door in.“ |
  *
|
I have seen some dead men, |
Never once like this one! |
One whose feet should rise up |
Ready for a-jumping, |
One whose arms should stretch out |
Ready for a-hugging, |
One whose lips should open |
Ready for a-kissing, |
And who should right wake up |
Soon as I have kissed him! |
Once twelve master masons put their heads together, |
Déva’s lofty castle that they would erect there. |
They would erect it for two full pecks of silver, |
Two full pecks of silver, two full pecks of guilder. |
Thereupon they set out, Déva town they went to, |
Déva’s lofty castle building they did set to. |
What they built by midday, down it fell by evening, |
What they built by evening, down it fell by morning. |
|
Once more they took counsel, all twelve master masons, |
How to stop walls crumbling, how the building hasten; |
Till at last agreed they, came to this solution, |
All between themselves they made a resolution: |
“Any of our wives who be the first arriver, |
Gently we should take her, throw her in the fire, |
Mix with lime her ashes, tender ashes softly |
For to strengthen with it Déva’s castle lofty.” |
{525.} “Coachman mine, coachman mine, eldest of my servants,
|
Hark my hest which is to go and see my husband,” |
Spoke and said the wife of Kelemen the mason, |
“Hitch the horses quickly, harness them, come, hasten, |
Hitch the horses quickly, bring them up the drive-way, |
Let’s set out for Déva, take we to the highway.“ |
|
When that they were gone but half the journey forward, |
Came there such foul weather, fast it rained and showered. |
“Mistress mine, my starlet, let us stop, go backward: |
Yesternight I had a bad sign in my sleeping, |
In my sleep at night I such a dream was dreaming, |
Kelemen the mason’s courtyard I was treading, |
Why his yard was all round covered in black mourning, |
Right there in the middle stood a deep well yawning, |
And his little son was dead in it all drownded; |
Now this dream today might prove itself well-founded. |
Mistress mine, my starlet, let us stop and turn back!” |
“Coachman mine, coachman mine, never shall we turn back, |
Nor the horses yours are, nor the carriage yours is, |
On you drive the coach and crack whip on the horses.“ |
|
Towards Déva’s castle as they went advancing, |
Kelemen the mason saw them at a glancing; |
Sore afraid became he, uttered loud this prayer: |
“O my God and Lord, please, take them away from here! |
May the legs be broken of my chestnut steeds four, |
May the spokes be shattered of my coach’s wheels all, |
May the Lord Almighty’s thunderbolt come strike down, |
May my horses snort and turn the carriage right home!” |
Towards Déva’s castle on the coach advances, |
Neither horse nor coach did meet with no mischances. |
|
“Good morrow, good morrow, all twelve master masons, |
Good morrow to you, Kelemen the mason,” |
So the woman hailed them and her husband answered: |
“Good morrow, my wife, to you too,” he at once said, |
“Why did you come here to meet your death so dire, |
Gently we should take you, throw you in the fire. |
We the twelve stonemasons came to this agreement: |
If a wife should come here, this should be her treatment: |
We should take her gently, throw her in the fire, |
Mix with lime her ashes taken from the pyre, |
Déva’s lofty castle make thereby well strengthened, |
Only that way can we gain the hard-won payment.“ |
|
Mistress Kelemen no sooner saw the meaning |
Than a woeful heart with thus began a-moaning: |
“Pray wait you, pray wait you, twelve who mean to murder |
Till I take my farewell, wait you till no further, |
{526.} Till I take my farewell women-friends of mine from,
|
From my women-friends and bonny little son from; |
For the dead they’re ringing, three times rings the church-bell, |
But my lonely soul for none will toll the dead-knell.” |
With that Kelemen’s wife home she went departing |
For to say her farewells and take her final parting, |
Take her final farewell women-friends of hers from, |
From her women-friends and bonny little son from. |
|
Mistress Kelemen then back she went a-hieing, |
Towards Déva’s castle all the way a-crying; |
There they took her gently, throwed her in the fire, |
Mixed with lime her ashes taken from the pyre, |
Only thus could build they Déva’s castle higher, |
And the full tall price win which they did require. |
|
Kelemen the mason when he went his gate in, |
Saw his little son come running for to greet him: |
“Welcome home, my father, dear beloved father! |
Where is she, where is she, mother, dear my mother?” |
Then his father answered, thus began a-speaking: |
“Never you mind, dear son, she’ll be home by evening.” |
|
“Lackaday, welladay, evening’s come and sun set, |
Still my mother dear she failed to come back home yet! |
O my father, father, tell me, tell me truly |
Where’s my mother gone to, where my mother could be.” |
“Go you, son, you go to Déva’s castle lofty, |
There your mother’s walled in, midst the stones lies coldly.” |
|
Up and went his son then, set out tears a-falling, |
Set out for to find her Déva’s castle tall in; |
Three times did he shout on Déva’s castle lofty: |
“Mother, mother, speak up, speak to me once softly!” |
“Son, I cannot speak up, for the stone wall presses, |
Heavy stones lie o’er me, body, limbs and tresses.“ |
|
There her heart did break and under her the ground, too, |
And her little son he fell the chasm into. |