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Thread: Post poems of your native tongue

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    Default Post poems of your native tongue

    I want this thread to celebrate European poetry. So post poems in your own language, they may belong to others or being your own composition.


    Justice for Hungary!

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    A very beautiful poem from Rainer Maria Rilke: "Der Panther"

    Sein Blick ist vom Vorübergehn der Stäbe
    so müd geworden, daß er nichts mehr hält.
    Ihm ist, als ob es tausend Stäbe gäbe
    und hinter tausend Stäben keine Welt.

    Der weiche Gang geschmeidig starker Schritte,
    der sich im allerkleinsten Kreise dreht,
    ist wie ein Tanz von Kraft um eine Mitte,
    in der betäubt ein großer Wille steht.

    Nur manchmal schiebt der Vorhang der Pupille
    sich lautlos auf –. Dann geht ein Bild hinein,
    geht durch der Glieder angespannte Stille –
    und hört im Herzen auf zu sein.

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    Diplomat of the Holy Crown of Saint Stephen Sagitta Hungarica's Avatar
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    Ady Endre: Vihar és fa (Storm and Tree)
    (early 20th century)

    Kóbor gyermekem hazajött:
    Kicsi Békességem
    S a fák és a záporos vihar
    Nagy egyességét nézem,
    Csókos csatáját bámulom.

    Hogy kelleti magát a fa,
    Hajlong erre-arra
    S hogy bízza rá magát odadón
    Mégiscsak a viharra,
    Ki zordan leplez vágyakat.

    Békesség, kicsi gyermekem,
    Maradjunk mi eggyütt:
    Bomoljon a fa meg a vihar,
    Mi csöndben leselkedjünk,
    Hátha betoppan valaki.

    Hátha vihart hoz valaki
    Viharnál is jobban,
    Lombosnak érzem a lelkemet
    S az Élet szíve dobban
    Ott künn és a szivemben is.

    S ha elfutsz, kóbor gyermekem,
    Újból visszavárlak,
    Addig viharral ölelkezem
    S nem árt ez igazi fának
    S aztán itt maradsz: gyermekem.

    Justice for Hungary!

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    József Attila - Nem! Nem! Soha!

    Szép kincses Kolozsvár, Mátyás büszkesége,
    Nem lehet, nem, soha! Oláhország éke!
    Nem teremhet Bánát a rácnak kenyeret!
    Magyar szél fog fúni a Kárpátok felett!

    Ha eljő az idő - a sírok nyílnak fel,
    Ha eljő az idő - a magyar talpra kel,
    Ha eljő az idő - erős lesz a karunk,
    Várjatok, Testvérek, ott leszünk, nem adunk!

    Majd nemes haraggal rohanunk előre,
    Vérkeresztet festünk majd a határkőre
    És mindent letiprunk! - Az lesz a viadal!! -
    Szembeszállunk mi a poklok kapuival!

    Bömbölve rohanunk majd, mint a tengerár,
    Egy csepp vérig küzdünk s áll a magyar határ
    Teljes egészében, mint nem is oly régen
    És csillagunk ismét tündöklik az égen.

    A lobogónk lobog, villámlik a kardunk,
    Fut a gaz előlünk - hisz magyarok vagyunk!
    Felhatol az égig haragos szózatunk:
    Hazánkat akarjuk! vagy érte meghalunk.

    Nem lész kisebb Hazánk, nem, egy arasszal sem,
    Úgy fogsz tündökölni, mint régen, fényesen!
    Magyar rónán, hegyen egy kiáltás zúg át:
    Nem engedjük soha! soha Árpád honát!

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    Quote Originally Posted by Eques Hungariae View Post
    József Attila - Nem! Nem! Soha!

    Szép kincses Kolozsvár, Mátyás büszkesége,
    Nem lehet, nem, soha! Oláhország éke!
    Nem teremhet Bánát a rácnak kenyeret!
    Magyar szél fog fúni a Kárpátok felett!

    Ha eljő az idő - a sírok nyílnak fel,
    Ha eljő az idő - a magyar talpra kel,
    Ha eljő az idő - erős lesz a karunk,
    Várjatok, Testvérek, ott leszünk, nem adunk!

    Majd nemes haraggal rohanunk előre,
    Vérkeresztet festünk majd a határkőre
    És mindent letiprunk! - Az lesz a viadal!! -
    Szembeszállunk mi a poklok kapuival!

    Bömbölve rohanunk majd, mint a tengerár,
    Egy csepp vérig küzdünk s áll a magyar határ
    Teljes egészében, mint nem is oly régen
    És csillagunk ismét tündöklik az égen.

    A lobogónk lobog, villámlik a kardunk,
    Fut a gaz előlünk - hisz magyarok vagyunk!
    Felhatol az égig haragos szózatunk:
    Hazánkat akarjuk! vagy érte meghalunk.

    Nem lész kisebb Hazánk, nem, egy arasszal sem,
    Úgy fogsz tündökölni, mint régen, fényesen!
    Magyar rónán, hegyen egy kiáltás zúg át:
    Nem engedjük soha! soha Árpád honát!
    Written immediately after the unjust Trianon Dictate (in translation No! No! Never!). A poem that since then heats the never resting hearts of every Hungarian.

    Justice for Hungary!

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    Quote Originally Posted by Sagitta Hungarica View Post
    Written immediately after the unjust Trianon Dictate (in translation No! No! Never!). A poem that since then heats the never resting hearts of every Hungarian.
    I know this poem from the heart.
    Even when woken up from my best dreams, I could recite it.

  7. #7
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    Quote Originally Posted by Eques Hungariae View Post
    I know this poem from the heart.
    Even when woken up from my best dreams, I could recite it.
    Unfortunately I never had that good of a memory to memorize poems by heart. Of course I managed with shorter ones, but never with large ones. Though I love to read them, and meditate about their meaning, or simply to marvel in their beauty.

    Justice for Hungary!

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    [YOUTUBE]xwl2vLc8HoY[/YOUTUBE]


    Du mĺ ikke sove - Arnulf Řverland, 1937

    Jeg vĺknet en natt av en underlig drřm,
    det var som en stemme talte til mig,
    fjern som en underjordisk strřm -
    og jeg reiste mig op: Hvad er det du vil mig?


    - Du mĺ ikke sove! Du mĺ ikke sove!
    Du mĺ ikke tro, at du bare har drřmt!
    Igĺr blev jeg dřmt.
    I natt har de reist skafottet i gĺrden.
    De henter mig klokken fem imorgen!


    Hele kjelleren her er full,
    og alle kaserner har kjeller ved kjeller.
    Vi ligger og venter i stenkolde celler,
    vi ligger og rĺtner i mřrke hull!


    Vi vet ikke selv, hvad vi ligger og venter,
    og hvem der kan bli den neste, de henter.
    Vi střnner, vi skriker - men kan dere hřre?
    Kan dere absolutt ingenting gjřre?


    Ingen fĺr se oss.
    Ingen fĺr vite, hvad der skal skje oss.
    Ennu mer:
    Ingen kan tro, hvad her daglig skjer!


    Du mener, det kan ikke vćre sant,
    sĺ onde kan ikke mennesker vćre.
    Der fins da vel skikkelig folk iblandt?
    Bror, du har ennu meget ĺ lćre!


    Man sa: Du skal gi ditt liv, om det kreves.
    Og nu har vi gitt det - forgjeves, forgjeves!
    Verden har glemt oss! Vi er bedratt!
    Du mĺ ikke sove mer i natt!


    Du mĺ ikke gĺ til ditt kjřpmannskap
    og tenke pĺ hvad der gir vinning og tap!
    Du mĺ ikke skylde pĺ aker og fe
    og at du har mer enn nok med det!


    Du mĺ ikke sitte trygt i ditt hjem
    og si: Det er sřrgelig, stakkars dem!
    Du mĺ ikke tĺle sĺ inderlig vel
    den urett som ikke rammer dig selv!
    Jeg roper med siste pust av min stemme:
    Du har ikke lov til ĺ gĺ der og glemme!


    Tilgi dem ikke; de vet hvad de gjřr!
    De puster pĺ hatets og ondskapens glřr!
    De liker ĺ drepe, de frydes ved jammer,
    de řnsker ĺ se vĺr verden i flammer!
    De řnsker ĺ drukne oss alle i blod!
    Tror du det ikke? Du vet det jo!


    Du vet jo, at skolebarn er soldater,
    som stimer med sang over torv og gater,
    og opglřdd av mřdrenes fromme svig,
    vil verge sitt land og vil gĺ i krig!


    Du kjenner det nedrige folkebedrag
    med heltemot og med tro og ćre -
    du vet, at en helt, det vil barnet vćre,
    du vet, han vil vifte med sabel og flag!


    Og sĺ skal han ut i en skur av stĺl
    og henge igjen i en piggtrĺdsvase
    og rĺtne for Hitlers ariske rase!
    Du vet, det er menneskets mening og mĺl!


    Jeg skjřnte det ikke. Nu er det for sent.
    Min dom er rettferdig. Min straff er fortjent.
    jeg trodde pĺ fremgang, jeg trodde pĺ fred,
    pĺ arbeid, pĺ samhold, pĺ kjćrlighet!
    Men den som ikke vil dř i en flokk
    fĺr prřve alene, pĺ břddelens blokk!


    Jeg roper i mřrket - ĺ, kunde du hřre!
    Der er en eneste ting ĺ gjřre:
    Verg dig, mens du har frie hender!
    Frels dine barn! Europa brenner!


    Jeg skaket av frost. Jeg fikk pĺ mig klćr.
    Ute var glitrende stjernevćr.
    Bare en ulmende stripe i řst
    varslet det samme som drřmmens rřst:


    Dagen bakenom jordens rand
    steg med et skjćr av blod og brand,
    steg med en angst sĺ ĺndelřs,
    at det var som om selve stjernene frřs!


    Jeg tenkte: Nu er det noget som hender. -
    Vĺr tid er forbi - Europa brenner!



    English translation by Lars-Toralf:

    I was awakened one morning, by the quaintest of dreams
    ‘twas like a voice, spoken to me
    It sounded afar - like an underground stream,
    I rose and said: Why do you call me?

    Dare not to slumber! Dare not to sleep!
    Dare not believe, it was merely a dream!
    Yore I was judged.
    The gallows were built in the court this evening,
    They’ll come for me — 5’ in the morning

    This dungeon is teeming,
    And barracks stand dungeon by dungeon
    we lie here, awaiting, in cold cells of stone,
    We lie here, we rot, in these murky holes.

    We know not ourselves, what does lie ahead
    Who will be the next one they'll reach for.
    We moan and we shriek: But do you take heed?
    Is there none among you who’ll hearken?

    No one can see us,
    None know what befalls us.
    Yet more:
    None will believe - what the day will bring us!

    And then You defy: This dare not be true!
    That men can be utterly evil.
    There has to be some one with merits pure
    Oh, brother, you still have a great deal to learn

    They said: You will give your life, if commanded
    We’ve given it now, for naught it was handed
    The world has forgotten, we’ve all been deceived
    Dare not to sleep in this hour - this eve.

    You oughtn’t go to your business hence,
    Or think: What’s your loss – or what is your gain?
    You oughtn’t attribute your fields and your kine,
    Nor say you’ve enough - with all that is thine.

    You oughn’t abide, sitting calm in your home
    Saying: Dismal it is, poor they are, and alone
    You cannot permit it! You dare not, at all.
    Accepting that outrage on all else may fall!
    I cry with the final gasps of my breath:
    You dare not repose, nor stand and forget

    Pardon them not - they know what they do!
    They breathe on hate-glows, and evil pursue,
    They fancy to slay, they revel with cries,
    Their desire is to gloat, when our world is at fire!
    In blood they are yearning to drown one and all!
    Don’t you believe it? You’ve heard the call!

    You know how infants will soldiers remain,
    While dashing through streets, fields, chanting ‘bout pain
    Aroused by their mothers‘ assurance of glory
    They’ll shelter their land - and they’ll never worry

    You know the fatality of the lies,
    that glory and faith and honor abides
    You discern the dauntless dreams of a child,
    A saber, a banner, he’ll flaunt them so wild,

    And then they’ll leave home for a rainfall of steel,
    ‘Till last they hang ragged on barbed wire will,
    Decaying for Hitler's Aryan call,
    That is what a man’s for - after all…

    I couldn’t imagine – too late now it is
    My sentence is just: The verdict's no miss
    I believed in prosperity, dreamt about peace
    In labor and fellowship; love’s fragrant kiss
    Yet those who don’t die on the battlefield,
    Their heads for the axeman, will certainly yield

    I cry in the gloom - if only you’d knew
    There is but one thing - befitting to do
    Defend yourself, while your hands are still yearning,
    Protect your offspring - Europe is burning.

    ***

    I shook from the chill. To dress, up I rose
    Without stars were shining, so far, yet so close
    ‘twere simply a brilliant ray in the east,
    Admonishing warning from the dream that just ceased

    The day that soared up from earths furthermost strand
    Augmenting with blood — and with firebrand
    It grew with terror - like a breath that was lost
    It seemed like the starlight - was slain by the frost.

    I weighed: Something is imminent - and it’s dire
    Our era is over — Europe’s on fire!

  9. #9
    Diplomat of the Holy Crown of Saint Stephen Sagitta Hungarica's Avatar
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    Norwegian is very underrated language. Very passionate.

    Justice for Hungary!

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    Poems lose meaning when translated, but I think the following will need some sort of translation for there to be any meaning at all.

    Rhyfel (War) - by Hedd Wyn (he died at Passchendaele)

    Gwae fi fy myw mewn oes mor ddreng,
    A Duw ar drai ar orwel pell;
    O'i ol mae dyn, yn deyrn a gwreng,
    Yn codi ei awdurdod hell.

    Pan deimlodd fyned ymaith Dduw
    Cyfododd gledd i ladd ei frawd;
    Mae swn yr ymladd ar ein clyw,
    A'i gysgod ar fythynnod tlawd.

    Mae'r hen delynau genid gynt,
    Ynghrog ar gangau'r helyg draw,
    A gwaedd y bechgyn lond y gwynt,
    A'u gwaed yn gymysg efo'r glaw



    Why must I live in this grim age,
    When, to a far horizon, God
    Has ebbed away, and man, with rage,
    Now wields the sceptre and the rod?

    Man raised his sword, once God had gone,
    To slay his brother, and the roar
    Of battlefields now casts upon
    Our homes the shadow of the war.

    The harps to which we sang are hung,
    On willow boughs, and their refrain
    Drowned by the anguish of the young
    Whose blood is mingled with the rain

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