KÖLCSEY Ferenc: Hymnus

A magyar nép zivataros századaiból From the stormy centuries of the Hungarian people
Isten, áldd meg a magyart
Jó kedvvel, bõséggel,
Nyújts feléje védõ kart,
Ha küzd ellenséggel;
Bal sors akit régen tép,
Hozz rá víg esztendõt,
Megbünhödte már e nép
A múltat s jövendõt!		 God, bless the Hungarian
With high spirits and plenty,
Stretch out a protective arm towards them
If they fight with enemy;
Who is torn by ill fortune for a long time,
Bring them a merry year,
Has suffered yet this nation
For the past and the future! (As the sub-title says, we had a stormy history.)
Õseinket felhozád
Kárpát szent bércére,
Általad nyert szép hazát
Bendegúznak vére.
S merre zúgnak habjai
Tiszának, Dunának,
Árpád hõs magzatjai
Felvirágozának.		 You have brought our ancestors
Onto the holy crag of the Carpathian, (the Hungarian conquest)
Blood of Bendegúz have won a (Bengegúz was one of the ancestors according to the legends.)
Beautiful homeland by you.
And where roar the surfs of
Tisza, Danube,
Heroic offsprings of Árpád (the chieftain who led the conquest)
Prospered.
Értünk Kunság mezein
Ért kalászt lengettél,
Tokaj szõlõvesszein
Nektárt csepegtettél.
Zászlónk gyakran plántálád
Vad török sáncára
S nyögte Mátyás bús hadát
Bécsnek büszke vára.		 You have swayed ripe ear for us
At the fields of Kunság,
You have dripped nectar
On the wine-shoots of Tokaj.
You have often planted our flag
Onto the mound of wild Turk
And the proud castle of Vienna
Have groaned the sorrowful army of Mathias.
Hajh, de bûneink miatt
Gyúlt harag kebledben,
S elsújtád villámidat
Dörgõ fellegedben,
Most rabló mongol nyilát
Zúgattad felettünk,
Majd töröktõl rabigát
Vállainkra vettünk.		 Oh, but anger has caught fire
In your heart beacuse of our sins,
And you shot your lightnings
In your thundering clouds,
Now you made the arrows of
Robber Mongols rumbling above us, (The country was ravaged by Tartars in 1241-42.)
Then we took yoke
To our shoulders from Turks. (The third of the country was occupied by Turks in 1526-1686.)
Hányszor zengett ajkain
Ozman vad népének
Vert hadunk csonthalmaim
Gyõzedelmi ének?
Hányszor támadt tenfiad
Szép hazám, kebledre,
S lettél magzatod miatt
Magzatod hamvvedre?		 How many times did a triumphal song
Resound on the lips of
Wild people of Ozman
Over the bone-hills of our beaten army?
How many times have your own son
Attacked your brest, my beautiful country,
And you became the urn of your descendant
Because of your descendant?
Bújt az üldözött, s felé
Kard nyúl barlangjában,
Szerte nézett s nem lelé
Honát e hazában.
Bérce hág és völgybe száll,
Bú s kétség mellette,
Vérözön lábainál,
S lángtenger fölötte.		 The ridden hid, and sword
Reaches out towards him in his cave,
He looked around and had not found
His home in this homeland.
He climbs to crag and descends to valley,
Sorrow and doubt are with him,
Streams of blood at his feet,
And there is sea of flames above him.
Vár állott, most kõhalom,
Kedv s öröm röpkedtek,
Halálhörgés, siralom
Zajlik már helyettek.
S ah, szabadság nem virúl
A holtak vérébõl,
Kínzó rabság könye húl
Árvánk hõs szemébõl!		 There stood a castle, now it is a heap of stones,
Temper and pleasure flew around,
Death rattle and lament
Clamour now instead of them.
And ah, freedom does not flourish
From the blood of the dead,
Tear of tormenting bondage drops
From the heroic eyes of our orphans!
Szánd meg isten a magyart,
Kit vészek hányának,
Nyujts feléje védõ kart
Tengerén kínjának.
Bal sors akit régen tép,
Hozz rá víg esztendõt,
Megbünhödte már e nép
A múltat s jövendõt!		 God, take a pity on Hungarian,
Who are being thrown by disasters,
Stretch out a protective arm towards them
On the sea of their pain.
Who is torn by ill fortune
Bring them a merry year,
Has suffered yet this nation
For the past and the future!

(1823)

nektárt csepegtettél = tokaji bort
zászlónk gyakran plántálád = sokszor legyõztük a törököt
nyögte Mátyás bús hadát = a híres „fekete sereg” elfoglalta Bécset
magzatod miatt magzatod hamvvedre = magad okoztad utódaid vesztét

you have dripped nectar = wine of Tokaj
you have often planted our flag = we overcame the Turks many times
groaned sorrowful army of Mathias = the famous “Black Army” took Vienna
urn of your descendant because of your descendant = you have caused the ruin of your own descendants



Special thanks go to Péter Posvári for ideas and corrections to my original translation.