Hungarian original (Ferenc Kölcsey, 1823) | IPA transcription[a] | English translation (Laszlo Korossy, 2003)[5] | Poetic English translation (William N. Loew, 1881) |
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I Isten, áldd meg a magyart Jó kedvvel, bőséggel, Nyújts feléje védő kart, Ha küzd ellenséggel; Bal sors akit régen tép, Hozz rá víg esztendőt, Megbűnhődte már e nép A múltat s jövendőt! II Őseinket felhozád Kárpát szent bércére, Általad nyert szép hazát Bendegúznak vére. S merre zúgnak habjai Tiszának, Dunának, Árpád hős magzatjai Felvirágozának. III Értünk Kunság mezein Ért kalászt lengettél, Tokaj szőlővesszein Nektárt csepegtettél. Zászlónk gyakran plántálád Vad török sáncára, S nyögte Mátyás bús hadát Bécsnek büszke vára. IV Hajh, de bűneink miatt Gyúlt harag kebledben, S elsújtád villámidat Dörgő fellegedben, Most rabló mongol nyilát Zúgattad felettünk, Majd töröktől rabigát Vállainkra vettünk. V Hányszor zengett ajkain Ozmán vad népének Vert hadunk csonthalmain Győzedelmi ének! Hányszor támadt tenfiad Szép hazám, kebledre, S lettél magzatod miatt Magzatod hamvvedre! VI Bújt az üldözött, s felé Kard nyúlt barlangjában, Szerte nézett s nem lelé Honját a hazában, Bércre hág és völgybe száll, Bú s kétség mellette, Vérözön lábainál, S lángtenger fölette. VII Vár állott, most kőhalom, Kedv s öröm röpkedtek, Halálhörgés, siralom Zajlik már helyettek. S ah, szabadság nem virúl A holtnak véréből, Kínzó rabság könnye hull Árvánk hő szeméből! VIII Szánd meg Isten a magyart Kit vészek hányának, Nyújts feléje védő kart Tengerén kínjának. Bal sors akit régen tép, Hozz rá víg esztendőt, Megbűnhődte már e nép A múltat s jövendőt! | 1 [ˈɪʃ.tɛ̞n äːld mɛ̞g ɒ ˈmɒ.ɟɒrt] [joː ˈkɛ̞d.vɛ̞l ˈbøː.ʃeːg.gɛ̞l] [ɲuːjtʃ ˈfɛ̞.leː.jɛ̞ ˈveː.døː kɒrt] [hɒ kʏzd ˈɛ̞l.lɛ̞n.ʃeːg.gɛ̞l] [bɒl ʃorʃ ˈɒ.kɪt ˈreː.gɛ̞n teːp] [hozː räː viːg ˈɛ̞s.tɛ̞n.døːt] [ˈmɛ̞g.byːn.høːt.tɛ̞ mäːr ɛ̞ neːp] [ɒ ˈmuːl.tɒt ˈʃ‿jø̞.vɛ̞n.døːt] 2 [ˈøː.ʃɛ̞.ɪŋ.kɛ̞t ˈfɛ̞l.ho.zäːd] [ˈkäːr.päːt sɛ̞nd‿ˈbeːr.t͡seː.rɛ̞] [ˈäːl.tɒ.lɒd ɲɛ̞rt seːp ˈhɒ.zäːt] [ˈbɛ̞n.dɛ̞.guːz.nɒk ˈveː.rɛ̞] [ˈʃ‿mɛ̞r.rɛ̞ ˈzuːg.nɒk ˈhɒb.jɒ.ɪ] [ˈtɪ.säː.nɒg‿ˈdʊ.näː.nɒk] [ˈäːr.päːt høːʃ ˈmɒg.zɒc.cɒ.ɪ] [ˈfɛ̞l.vɪ.räː.go.zäː.nɒk] 3 [ˈeːr.tʏŋk ˈkʊn.ʃäːg ˈmɛ̞.zɛ̞.ɪn] [eːrt ˈkɒ.läːst ˈlɛ̞ŋ.gɛ̞t.teːl] [ˈto.kɒj ˈsøː.løː.vɛ̞s.sɛ̞.ɪn] [ˈnɛ̞k.täːrt ˈt͡ʃɛ̞.pɛ̞k.tɛ̞t.teːl] [ˈzäːs.loːɲɟ‿ˈɟɒ.krɒn ˈpläːn.täː.läːd] [vɒt‿ˈtø̞.rø̞k ˈʃäːn.t͡säː.rɒ] [ˈʃ‿ɲø̞k.tɛ̞ ˈmäː.cäːʒ‿buːʃ ˈhɒ.däːt] [ˈbeːt͡ʃ.nɛ̞g‿ˈbʏs.kɛ̞ ˈväː.rɒ] 4 [hɒjh dɛ̞ ˈbʏ.nɛ̞.ɪŋk ˈmɪ.ɒtː] [ɟuːlt ˈhɒ.rɒk‿ˈkɛ̞b.lɛ̞d.bɛ̞n] [ˈʃ‿ɛ̞l.ʃuːj.täːd ˈvɪl.läː.mɪ.dɒt] [ˈdø̞r.gøː ˈfɛ̞l.lɛ̞.gɛ̞d.bɛ̞n] [moʃt ˈrɒ.bloː ˈmoŋ.gol ˈɲɪ.läːt] [ˈzuː.gɒt.tɒt‿ˈfɛ̞.lɛ̞t.tʏŋk] [mɒjt‿ˈtø̞.rø̞k.tøːl ˈrɒ.bɪ.gäːt] [ˈväːl.lɒ.ɪŋ.krɒ ˈvɛ̞t.tʏŋk] 5 [ˈhäːɲ.sor ˈzɛ̞ŋ.gɛ̞tː ˈɒj.kɒ.ɪn] [ˈoz.mäːn vɒd ˈneː.peː.nɛ̞k] [vɛ̞rt ˈhɒ.dʊŋk ˈt͡ʃont.hɒl.mɒ.ɪn] [ˈɟøː.zɛ̞.dɛ̞l.mɪ ˈeː.nɛ̞k] [ˈhäːɲ.sor ˈtäː.mɒtː ˈtɛ̞n.fɪ.ɒd] [seːp ˈhɒ.zäːm ˈkɛ̞b.lɛ̞d.rɛ̞] [ˈʃ‿lɛ̞t.teːl ˈmɒg.zɒ.tod ˈmɪ.ɒtː] [ˈmɒg.zɒ.tot‿ˈhɒmv.vɛ̞d.rɛ̞] 6 [buːjt ɒz ˈʏl.dø̞.zø̞tː ˈʃ‿fɛ̞.leː] [kɒrd ɲuːld ˈbɒr.lɒŋg.jäː.bɒn] [ˈsɛ̞r.tɛ̞ ˈneː.zɛ̞tː ʃ‿nɛ̞m ˈlɛ̞.leː] [ˈhon.jäːt ɒ ˈhɒ.zäː.bɒn] [ˈbeːrt͡s.rɛ̞ häːg eːʃ ˈvø̞ʎɟ.bɛ̞ säːlː] [buː ˈʃ‿keːt.ʃeːg ˈmɛ̞l.lɛ̞t.tɛ̞] [ˈveː.rø̞.zø̞n ˈläː.bɒ.ɪ.näːl] [ˈʃ‿läːŋk.tɛ̞ŋ.gɛ̞r ˈfø̞.lɛ̞t.tɛ̞] 7 [väːr ˈäːl.lotː moʃt ˈkøː.hɒ.lom] [kɛ̞df‿ˈʃ‿ø̞.rø̞m ˈrø̞p.kɛ̞t.tɛ̞k] [ˈhɒ.läːl.hø̞r.geːʃ ˈʃɪ.rɒ.lom] [ˈzɒj.lɪk mäːr ˈhɛ̞.jɛ̞t.tɛ̞k] [ʃ‿ɒh ˈsɒ.bɒt.ʃäːg nɛ̞m ˈvɪ.ruːl] [ɒ ˈholt.nɒk ˈveː.reː.bøːl] [ˈkiːn.zoː ˈrɒp.ʃäːk‿ˈkø̞n.ɲɛ̞ hʊlː] [ˈäːr.väːŋk høː ˈsɛ̞.meː.bøːl] 8 [säːnd mɛ̞g ˈɪʃ.tɛ̞n ɒ ˈmɒ.ɟɒrt] [kɪt ˈveː.sɛ̞k ˈhäː.ɲäː.nɒk] [ɲuːjt͡ʃ ˈfɛ̞.leː.jɛ̞ ˈveː.døː kɒrt] [ˈtɛ̞ŋ.gɛ̞.reːn ˈkiːɲ.jäː.nɒk] [bɒl ʃorʃ ˈɒ.kɪt ˈreː.gɛ̞n teːp] [hozː räː viːg ˈɛ̞s.tɛ̞n.døːt] [ˈmɛ̞g.byːn.høːt.tɛ̞ mäːr ɛ̞ neːp] [ɒ ˈmuːl.tɒt ˈʃ‿jø.vɛ̞n.døːt] | I O God, 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! II 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. III 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.” IV 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 swarmed over us Then the Turks’ slave yoke We took upon our shoulders. V 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 aggress My homeland, upon your breast, And you became because of your own sons Your own sons’ funeral urn! VI 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. VII 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, Torturous slavery’s tears fall From the burning eyes of the orphans! VIII 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! | I O, my God, the Magyar bless With Thy plenty and good cheer! With Thine aid his just cause press, Where his foes to fight appear. Fate, who for so long did’st frown, Bring him happy times and ways; Atoning sorrow hath weighed down Sins of past and future days. II By Thy help our fathers gained Kárpát’s proud and sacred height; Here by Thee a home obtained Heirs of Bendegúz, the knight. Where’er Danube’s waters flow And the streams of Tisza swell Árpád’s children, Thou dost know, Flourished and did prosper well. III For us let the golden grain Grow upon the fields of Kún, And let nectar’s silver rain Ripen grapes of Tokay soon. Thou our flags hast planted o’er Forts where once wild Turks held sway; Proud Vienna suffered sore From King Mátyás’ dark array. IV But, alas! for our misdeed, Anger rose within Thy breast, And Thy lightnings Thou did’st speed From Thy thundering sky with zest. Now the Mongol arrow flew Over our devoted heads; Or the Turkish yoke we knew, Which a free-born nation dreads. V O, how often has the voice Sounded of wild Osman’s hordes, When in songs they did rejoice O’er our heroes’ captured swords! Yea, how often rose Thy sons, My fair land, upon Thy sod, And Thou gavest to these sons, Tombs within the breast they trod! VI Though in caves pursued he lie, Even then he fears attacks. Coming forth the land to spy, Even a home he finds he lacks. Mountain, vale – go where he would, Grief and sorrow all the same – Underneath a sea of blood, While above a sea of flame. VII ‘Neath the fort, a ruin now, Joy and pleasure erst were found, Only groans and sighs, I trow, In its limits now abound. But no freedom’s flowers return From the spilt blood of the dead, And the tears of slavery burn, Which the eyes of orphans shed. VIII Pity, God, the Magyar, then, Long by waves of danger tossed; Help him by Thy strong hand when He on grief’s sea may be lost. Fate, who for so long did’st frown, Bring him happy times and ways; Atoning sorrow hath weighed down All the sins of all his days. |
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