Isten, aldd meg a magyart Jo kedvvel, b�seggel, Nyujts feleje ved� kart, Ha k�zd ellenseggel; Bal sors akit regen tep, Hozz ra v�g esztend�t, Megb�nh�dte mar e nep A multat s j�vend�t! �seinket felhozad Karpat szent bercere, altalad nyert szep hazat Bendeguznak vere. S merre zugnak habjai Tiszanak, Dunanak, arpad h�s magzatjai Felviragozanak. Ert�nk Kunsag mezein Ert kalaszt lengettel, Tokaj sz�l�vesszein Nektart csepegtettel. Zaszlonk gyakran plantalad Vad t�r�k sancara, S ny�gte Matyas bus hadat Becsnek b�szke vara. Hajh, de b�neink miatt Gyult harag kebledben, S elsujtad villamidat D�rg� fellegedben, Most rablo mongol nyilat Zugattad felett�nk, Majd t�r�kt�l rabigat Vallainkra vett�nk. Hanyszor zengett ajkain Ozman vad nepenek Vert hadunk csonthalmain Gy�zedelmi enek! Hanyszor tamadt tenfiad Szep hazam, kebledre, S lettel magzatod miatt Magzatod hamvvedre! Bujt az �ld�z�tt, s fele Kard nyult barlangjaban, Szerte nezett s nem lele Honjat e hazaban, Bercre hag es v�lgybe szall, Bu s ketseg mellette, Ver�z�n labainal, S langtenger f�lette. Var allott, most k�halom, Kedv s �r�m r�pkedtek, Halalh�rges, siralom Zajlik mar helyettek. S ah, szabadsag nem virul A holtnak vereb�l, K�nzo rabsag k�nnye hull arvak h� szemeb�l! Szand meg Isten a magyart Kit veszek hanyanak, Nyujts feleje ved� kart Tengeren k�njanak. Bal sors akit regen tep, Hozz ra v�g esztend�t, Megb�nh�dte mar e nep
A multat s j�vend�t!
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 �rp�d 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 https://www.world-countries.orghttps://www.world-countries.org You dripped sweet nectar Our flag you often planted On the wild Turk’s earthworks And under M�ty�s’ grave army whimpered Vienna’s “proud fort.” Alas, 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. 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, Torturous 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!