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Tags: Ardeal Basarabia Bessarabia Cosbuc Erdely George Hungarians Magyar Masters Occupation Romania Transilvania Transylvania
Channel: Education
Uploaded: July 25, 2008 at 12:45 pm
Author: AlexanderXVI
Length: 03:38
Rating: 5.00
Views: 215
For all those Hungarian extremists, wishing for a new "Greater Hungary"!I'm hungry, naked, homeless, through,Because of loads I had to carry;You've spat on me, and hit me - marry,A dog I've been to you !Vile lord, whom winds brought to this land,If hell itself gives you free handTo tread us down and make us bleed,We will endure both load and need,The plough and harness yet take heed,We ask for land!Whene'er you see a crust of bread,Though brown and stale, we see's no more;You drag our sons to ruthless war,Our daughters to your bed.You curse what we hold dear and grand,Faith and compassion you have banned;Our children starve with want and chillAnd we go mad with pity, stillWe'd bear the grinding of your mill,Had we but land !You've turned into a field of cornThe village graveyard, and we ploughAnd dig out bones and weep and mournOh, had we ne'er been born !For those are bones of our own bone,But you don't care, o hearts of stone !Out of our house you drive us now,And dig our dead out of their grave;A silent corner of their ownThe land we crave !Besides, we want to know for sureThat we, too, shall together lie,That on the day on which we die,You will not mock the poor.The orphans, those to us so dear,Who o'er a grave would shed a tear,Won't know the ditches where we rot;We've been denied a burial plotThough we are Christians, are we not ?We ask for land, d'you hear ?Nor have we time to say a prayer,For time is in your power too;A soul is all we have, and youMuch you do care !You've sworn to rob us of the rightTo tell our grievances outright;You give us torture when we shout,Unheard-of torture, chain and cloutAnd lead when, dead tired, we cry out:For land we'll fight !What is it you've here buried ? say !Corn ? maize ? We have forbears and mothers,We, fathers, sisters dear and brothers !Unwished - for guests, away !Our land is holy, rich and brave,It is our cradle and our grave;We have defended it with sweatAnd blood, and bitter tears have wetEach palm of it - so, don't forget:'Tis land we crave !We can no more endure the goads,No more the hunger, the disastersThat follow on the heels of mastersPicked from the roads !God grant that we shall not demandYour hated blood instead of land !When hunger will untie our tiesAnd poverty will make us rise.E'en in your grave we will chastiseYou and your band ! |
