Ferenc Kölcsey

Ferenc Kölcsey Poems

1.

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.
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Ferenc Kölcsey Biography

Ferenc Kölcsey (August 8, 1790, Sződemeter – August 24, 1838) was a Hungarian poet, literary critic, orator, and politician, noted for his support of the liberal current inside the Habsburg Empire. He wrote the national anthem of Hungary in 1823. Kölcsey was born in Sződemeter, Hungary (now Săuca, Romania). He was orphaned at an early age and handicapped by the loss of an eye to smallpox. At age fifteen, he made the acquaintance of Ferenc Kazinczy and adopted his linguistic reforms. In 1809 Kölcsey went to Pest and became a notary to the Royal board. He was disenchanted with the office, and, while present in the Cseke in Szatmár, he devoted his time to aesthetical study, poetry, criticism, and the defense of Kazinczy's theories. Kölcsey's early metrical pieces contributed to the Transylvanian Museum did not attract much attention, while his severe criticisms of Mihály Csokonai Vitéz, János Kis, and especially Dániel Berzsenyi, published in 1817, rendered him very unpopular. From 1821 to 1826 he published many separate poems of great beauty in the Aurora, Hebe, Aspasia, and other magazines of polite literature. He joined Pál Szemere in a new periodical, styled Élet és Literatúra (Life and Literature), which appeared from 1826 to 1829, in 4 vols., and gained for Kölcsey the highest reputation as a critical writer. From 1832 to 1835 he sat in the Hungarian Diet, where his extreme liberal views and his eloquence soon rendered him famous as a parliamentary leader. Elected on November 17, 1830 a member of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, he took part in its first grand meeting; in 1832, he delivered his famous oration on Kazinczy, and in 1836 that on his former opponent Dániel Berzsenyi. In 1838, when the opposition leader Miklós Wesselényi was thrown into prison upon a disputed charge of treason, Kölcsey conducted his defense with noted eloquence, but without success. He died about a week afterwards at Cseke, from internal inflammation. Kölcsey's strong moral sense and deep devotion to his country are reflected in his poems, his often severe but masterly literary criticism, and his funeral orations and parliamentary speeches. His collected works, in 6 volumes, were published at Pest, 1840–1848, and his journal of the Diet of 1832–1836 appeared in 1848. The first collected edition of all his works appeared in 1886–87. A monument erected to the memory of Kölcsey was unveiled at Szatmárnémeti on September 25, 1864. His poem Himnusz (1823), evoking the glory of Hungary's past, became the national anthem of Hungary.)

The Best Poem Of Ferenc Kölcsey

Hymn

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

'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.

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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