david heti - thoughts

David Heti - thoughts

a magyar nép zivataros századaiból

Below is a translation of the Hungarian national anthem. This is what I have to deal with. Wonderful soups.

 

O Lord, bless the nation of Hungary

With your grace and bounty

Extend over it your guarding arm

During strife with its enemies

Long torn by ill fate

Bring upon it a time of relief

This nation has suffered for all sins

Of the past and of the future!

 

You brought our ancestors up

Over the Carpathians' holy peaks

By You was won a beautiful homeland

For Bendeguz's sons

And wherever flow the rivers of

The Tisza and the Danube

Árpád our hero's descendants

Will root and bloom

 

For us on the plains of the Kuns

You ripened the wheat

In the grape fields of Tokaj

You dripped sweet nectar

Our flag you often planted

On the wild Turk's earthworks

And under Mátyás' grave army whimpered

Vienna's "proud fort."

 

Ah, but for our sins

Anger gathered in Your bosom

And You struck with Your lightning

From Your thundering clouds

Now the plundering Mongols' arrows

You swamped over us

Then the Turks' slave yoke

We took upon our shoulders.

 

How often came from the mouths

Of Osman's barbarian nation

Over the corpses of our defeated army

A victory song!

How often did your own son agress

My homeland, upon your breast,

And you became because of your own sons

Your own sons' funeral urn!

 

The fugitive hid, and towards him

The sword reached into his cave

Looking everywhere he could not find

His home in his homeland

Climbs the mountain, descends the valley

Sadness and despair his companions

Sea of blood beneath his feet

Ocean of flame above.

 

Castle stood, now a heap of stones

Happiness and joy fluttered,

Groans of death, weeping

Now sound in their place.

And Ah! Freedom does not bloom

From the blood of the dead,

Tortuous slavery's tears fall

From the burning eyes of the orphans!

 

Pity, O Lord, the Hungarians

Who are tossed by waves of danger

Extend over it your guarding arm

On the sea of its misery

Long torn by ill fate

Bring upon it a time of relief

They who have suffered for all sins

Of the past and of the future!