Nakkelee hänt’ aallot kohti taivaan napaa, harjoin pilven reunan ripsuihin jo tapaa; János sankaripa nopeasti noihin kiinni kimmertäytyi pilven hetuloihin.
Kaksin käsin kiinni tarttui tanakasti, siinä pinnistellen riippui siihen asti, kunnes kulki pilvi meren rantamalle, hänet kalliolle kantoi korkealle.
Sándor Petőfi: János sankari Suomentanut Otto Manninen WSOY 1926, 104 s. Unkarinkielinen alkuteos János vitéz 1845
People best know Hungarian lyric poet and revolutionary hero Sándor Petöfi, originally Sándor Petrovics, for his patriotic songs and the epic poem Janos the Hero (1845).
This key national of Serb and Slovak descent figured in the Hungarian revolution of 1848.
Petőfi started his career as a poet with "popular situation songs," to which his first published poem, A borozó ("The Winery", 1842), belongs. This song of a drinker praises the healing power of wine to drive away all troubles. Despite this not unusual kind of pseudo-folk song in Hungarian poetry of the 1840s, Petőfi quickly developed an original and fresh voice, which made him stand. He wrote many poems like folk song on the subjects of wine, love, romantic robbers et cetera. The love poem A virágnak megtiltani nem lehet ("You Cannot Forbid the Flower", 1843) exemplifies many of these classic early poems, and Befordultam a konyhára ("I Turned into the Kitchen", 1843) uses the ancient metaphor of love and fire in a playful and somewhat provocative way.
Folk poetry and 19th-century populism very significant influenced work of Petőfi' despite other also present influences: familiar with the works of major literary figures of his day, including Percy Bysshe Shelley, Pierre-Jean de Béranger and Heinrich Heine, Petőfi drew on sources, such as topoi of contemporary almanac-poetry, in an inventive way.
This has got to be among the most beautiful things I have ever read.
I liked the story, and I liked the poet's great imagination and creativity. He seems to be a bottomless well of ideas; it reminded me a bit of The Neverending Story in that respect. Great sense of humor, too. I liked the part where they are so high up on the mountain that the horses trip over stars. There were many fun parts like that. At other times, it is deeply touching - the despair János feels during his exile, the story of his and Iluska's childhood, and especially the parts that speak about their love for each other. And throughout all of it, the poetry is unspeakably beautiful. I was in awe of the poet's skill from beginning to end.
I don't know if the English translation is any good (couldn't find a copy), I can only comment on the original, which is online here: https://archive.org/stream/jnosvitz00...
This is a really fantastic, in both senses of the word, piece of narrative poetry, and honestly, maybe the most purely enjoyable poem I've ever read. Petofi's rough and inventive rhymes come across very well in the translation. It has the authentic, earned, elemental blend of humor, adventure, and fantasy that seems to exist only in myth. I especially enjoyed the passage describing the hussars' journey over the mountains, so high that they could wring water from the clouds and the horses tripped over the stars.
persze csak az iskolából (nem) emlékeztem rá, leginkább arra, hogy minek kellett megtanulni az első nemtomhány versszakot – de igazából, bármennyire is cukin olvasta fel a Törőcsik Mari, verstanilag azért elég kellemetlen, folyamatosan döcög, néha olyan általános iskolás rímek lepnek meg, amik már valszeg akkor is cikik voltak, és hát népmese ide vagy oda, azért durva, h az ötödikesek olvassák a 16, de inkább 18+-os részleteket.
A kő úgy a király homlokához koppant, Hogy az agyveleje azonnal kiloccsant. „Igy híj meg máskor is kőszikla-ebédre,” Szólt s kacagott János „ráforrt a gégédre!”
I have to admit that I wouldn't have read this Hungarian epic if I hadn't had John Ridland as my college advisor from 1998-2000. He was the translator of this edition and published it at the time he served as my mentor. It's a glorious book. It's not quite a fairy tale, but has many elements of one. It won't give you the best geography lessons, but I can imagine it being a good bedtime story read one night at a time.
Tündérországban csak híre sincs a télnek, Ott örökös tavasz pompájában élnek; S nincsen ott nap kelte, nap lenyugovása, Örökös hajnalnak játszik pirossága.
Benne tündérfiak és tündérleányok Halált nem ismerve élnek boldogságnak; Nem szükséges nekik sem étel, sem ital, Élnek a szerelem édes csókjaival.
Még ma is megvan lemezen. Gyerekkoromban napokig hallgattam újra meg újra. Hihetetlen volt, hogy egy hang hogyan személyesít meg ennyi figurát. Olvasni is hasonló élmény volt – szinte sodortak a rímek.
My take on translating poetry is that of Dr Johnson's on dogs walking on their hind legs: it's not done well, but I'm surprised is it done at all. Nevertheless, I enjoyed this tale in verse. The translator used a rolling metre that was enjoyable to read out loud - until I hit a sight rhyme - and that also helped to convey a tongue-in-cheekedness I hope is in the original. I look forward to reading it.