Amerikai Magyar Szó, 1990. január-június (44. évfolyam, 1-26. szám)

1990-01-04 / 1. szám

Thursday, Jan. 4. 1990.

AMERIKAI MAGYAR SZÓ

11.

AR1ERICAH HUnCARIARS

Sándor Petőfi

1823—1849

Two inscriptions! The name is the same, since - we all know - that he himself changed his family name to be Hungarian as he was totally in body and in soul. The year of his birth is the same since he was born in Kiskörös on the very first day of 1823. But which date of his death is correct? That is the question now!

It was believed for a century and a half that the great Hungarian poet and No. 1. national hero was killed in action on July 31, 1849 at the battlefield of Segesvár when the great war for freedom by little Hungary was crushed by the united armies of Austria and huge Russia. It was believed he died the way he previsioned it and so dramatically described it in his great poem: "Egv gondolat ba'nt engemet!"

Many articles were written though in the course of many years about the circumstances surrounding his death. Several of them doubted that he died on the battlefield and stated that he was captured by the Russians and was taken to Siberia and died by tuberculosis in the year of 1856 in the town of Burgazin. Recently a 27- member team of antropologists, including two Americans from the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, went to Siberia to investigate and solve the mystery. They pronounced the remains found in the grave to be those of Sándor Petőfi. They even placed a head-stone over the grave with the inscription: "Alexander Petrovics, 1823— 1856."

The case is not yet closed! But a lot of emotion has been aired, lot of articles are being written pro and con. If this is true, it will certainly be the great magic twist of the history of all ages, nations and languages on the Globe.

Whatever the finding will be, Sándor Petőfi will still remain what he was, the greatest Poet and Patriot of his Nation, the greatest hero of many centuries, the writer of "Talpra Magyar!" (Rise Hungarian!) which became his Nation's revolutionary anthem, the Hungarian "Marseillaise".

Legends may be legends, myths may be myths, but facts are facts, and truths are truths. Let us not be carried away by emotions, let us patiently wait for the facts to be proven and let us never forget that Sándor Petőfi - in spite of all facts and passing times - will always remain the greatest of freedom-fighter poets not only of his Nation, but - we may dare to say - of this whole Globe of ours on which we live and move and have our being! A true parallel of him cannot be found in the colossal volume of human history ever or anywhere.

Petőfi will always remain the most beloved poet of his nation. Time will come when the world will appreciate his poetry according to its true merit. He is the prophet of "sacrosanct world-liberty". Statues of him were erected in Budapest, Segesvár, Pozsony, Miskolc. There is one in the public garden of Buffalo, N.Y. and a marble bust of him in the Cleveland Public Library by Alexander Finta.

Legends are legends, no matter how beautiful they are; myths are myths, no matter how ravishing they may be.

Alexander Petrovics

1823—1856

One Thought torments me...

One thought torments me: that I lie Upon a featherbed to die!

Slowly wither, slowly waste away,

Flowerlike, the furtive earthworm's prey;

Like a candle slowly to be spent In an empty, lonely tenement.

No death like this, my Lord Divine,

No death like this, be ever mine!

Let me be a tree through which the lightning

flashes,

Or the tempest plucks up the roots and smashes; Let me be a rock from mountain rent asunder, Hurtled to the gorge by skyearthshaking thunder... When once they rise, all fettered folk Who’ve had enough of chain and yoke,

With faces red and banners red, in line Emblazoned there this sacred countersign: “World Liberty!”

Exultantly,

Their exultations ring from East to West, When tyrants come to battle with their best; My life, let me yield On the battlefield!

Tis there that the blood of youth shall flow

from my heart,

And when, from my lips, last paeans of joy but

start.

Let them be drowned in the clatter of steel,

In the roar of the guns, in the trumpet's peal,

And through my still corpse

Shall horse after horse

Full gallop ahead to the victory won,

And there shall I lie to be trampelled upon.— Tis there they shall gather my scattered bones. When once the great day of burial comes... With solemn, muffled drumbeats for the dead, With sableshrouded banners bomed ahead. One grave for all the brave who died for thee, O sacrosanct World Liberty!

Poem by Alexander Petőfi. Translated by E. B. Pierce and E. Delmár.

Magyar

by Eugene Szedenits

‘Magyar’, when this word you impart,

Breathe into it your soul and heart!

Let your face honest into red-flames flush And from your eyes tears-of-thanks let gush.

Your resonant lips let intone a pleasant sound,

Let it ring in your ears like prayer Heaven-bound: Magyar, Magyar, Magyar!

Let that word be your steady daily-bread,

Your cradle at birth, your face-cloth when dead,

Day after day your constant refresher,

In tribulation your vivacious quencher;

The House-blessing in home above the counter.

Last paeans of joy in your warring encounter: Magyar, Magyar, Magyar!

At dawn it should be your first waking token,

At falling of stars your sign never broken;

Let it be balsam for your heart throbing so hard,

On path of confusion your stay and your guard;

Let that word be your Past, your Future and Present! With it bless your God, who is ever present:

Magyar, Magyar, Magyar!

In the name of true Liberty of mind and conscience: those who wish to retain a myth, let them do so: but do not force or compell others who abide by truth.

A WCKI)

IN EDM'WArS

I ha\ e been living in Hungary for three and a half years but I have never opened a bank or savings account here. I am one of those millions who, when they have cash to spare, choose not to invest it in some institution or other. Why is this?

It is argued that low interests rates are a disincentive. This is only part of the answer. In Britain I have always had a bank account even if there has been no interest to gain. Questions of convenience outweigh considerations of earning interest - at least for people like myself who have relatively little to invest. It isn’t a question of earning money on money, but of the ease of using checks and of the security in not having to carry around large sums of cash.

Questions of convenience also dictate that I don’t use a bank account or savings account in Hungary (apart from for payment of certain standing orders). It is just not convenient to have money in such an account. There is virtually no payment- bv-check system in Hungary and you can only draw cash out of your savings account at the particular branch where the account is held. In other words, it’s just not worth the effort.

A senior official at the Hungarian National Bank once told me that the introduction of checks in Hungary would meet with stiff resistance from the population, which is used to dealing with a cash-only economy. Notwithstanding the position of my informant, I do find this difficult to believe. Hungarians are not some neanderthal economic race who cannot move with the times. Indeed, so many things are changing in this country at the moment that the introduction of checks would be relatively small beer. Furthermore if foreigners ( and Hungarians with convertible currency accounts) can now use Eurochecks in Hungary without any problems why couldn't the general population use a locally-generated check system? Psychological resistance may play a part, but I rather suspect that the cost of introducing such a scheme, virtually from scratch, is prohibitive.

Perhaps there is one idea, however, that the banking authorities might consider. Why not jump the check stage altogether and move straight into a charge-card system? If most purchases could be made with a form of charge or credit card, the accumulated cost of which could then be paid by transfer, say every month, then there would be an incentive, if only from the convenience point of view, for people to open acounts and not hoard their cash at home. I wonder how many millions this would literally "bring out of the woodwork"?

Bob Dent