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• #207 Crystalheart senior tag

  Új Válasz 2012-08-27 10:07:02 #207

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  Crystalheart

  senior tag

  Vissza az irodalomhoz, megtaláltam Kölcsey Hymnus-ának tán legjobb, mindenesetre biztosan leghűbb és legfrissebb irodalmi angol fordítását, rengeteg magyar vers angol változatával egyetemben, egy bescannelt könyvben. Nagyon megörültem neki, ezt és a Szózatot, meg néhány másik verset legalább felolvasva mindenképp be kell gyakorolnom angolul is.

  NATIONAL ANTHEM/HYMN (by Ferenc Kölcsey)

  Lord, bless us Hungarians
  with good cheer and harvest;
  Shield and save us when we are
  pressed by foes the hardest!
  After storms of bygone days
  favor our endeavor;
  sins of future, sins of past
  are atoned forever.

  Peaks of high Carpathian hills
  once you gave our elders,
  sons of Bendegúz received
  thus their lands and shelters.
  Where the waves of Tisza glide,
  where the Danube rages,
  valiant seeds of Árpád grew,
  prospering through the ages.

  With Your winds on Kúnság’s plains
  You waved wheat a-plenty,
  in the vineyards of Tokaj
  You poured Your nectars amply.
  Often You have raised our flags
  on the wild Turks* towers;
  proud Vienna prostrate lay
  under Matthias* powers.

  But our sins Your wrath provoked
  as our deeds You pondered;
  flashes through the Heavens burst
  as in rage You thundered.
  Soon the Mongols’ arrows rained
  down upon your people;
  then the Turkish yoke was set
  on every house and steeple.

  Often from wild Turkish lips
  chants of joy were shouted,
  raised in triumph as they saw
  all our armies routed!
  Often ’gainst you, Hungary,
  did your very sons rave:
  thus the fairest Mother Earth
  did become her sons’ grave!

  Chased, we ran and hid. The foe
  probed our caves with armed hand.
  We looked ’round, but could not find
  homes within our homeland...
  O’er the plains and through the hills
  grief and pain still drove us;
  seas of blood flowed at our feet,
  seas of flame around us.

  Once a castle — now but stones —
  rang with fife and laughter;
  now laments and death-rattles
  groan in anguish after.
  But, alas, no freedom thrives
  where our dead lie sleeping;
  tears of tortured slavery fall
  from our orphans weeping.

  Pity then, our people, Lord,
  shaken by disaster!
  From our sea of woes we cry:
  Save Hungary, Master!
  After storms of bygone days
  favor our endeavor;
  sins of future, sins of past
  are atoned forever.

  Watson Kirkconnell, Adam Makkai és Earl M. Herrick

  [ Szerkesztve ]

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