Fraternity-Testvériség, 1955 (33. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1955-09-01 / 9. szám
TESTVÉRISÉG 13 in a handful of dust”14 and also a sacrificial spirit, justified and necessitated on the ground of man’s inherent imperfection, his love and soldier poems are not primarily spiritual experiences; they are understandable in the light of a lover’s emotions and a warrior’s courage. Several poems have an immediacy, a quality of directness and intimacy which act upon the reader as if he were in the presence of their creation. Some of his poems seem faintly imitative of the type of Italian satirical poetry, called sirventes. Of his love songs, the Julia poems, written to Anna Losonczy, are the most beautiful. While in Poland, he wrote poems to a “beloved” woman whom he called “Coelia” and who was the wife of Báthory’s chamberlain, but it is also possible that “Coelia” is identical with Anna Losonczy. His habit of using mythological references and his artificialities are reminiscent of Petrarch; for instance, when he compares Julia with the sun, the moon and angry nature, he seems to echo the Italian poet and the canso (love song) type of early Renaissance poetry. He writes about his “love-hurt heart”, he tells us he shall “always remember his love”, he asks “fierce Cupid, why have you poured poison into honey?” He praises the nightingale, “singing its songs amidst green branches”, and remarks “in one respect we are alike, we both sing.” He is conscious of the tempora mutantur pathos of existence, but in spite of it “his love w’ill never die.” He compares the lovely face of Zsuzsánna, the Polish maiden, who played the zither, with “the rose of Whitsuntide” and her shining hair with “the yellow of gold.” He feels happy in her presence. There was also a Viennese girl wdio inspired him to poetic compliments. In his emotional meanderings he encountered women who seemed indispensable for the pleasure of the moment and for writing a poem. His imagery is not unique but attractive and sometimes vivacious. His assonances and pure rhymes convey a peculiar phonetic charm, and his ornamental devices do not detract from the rhythmical magic of his poems. Some of his poems tend to assume sameness, but even then either through formal perfection or through well expressed sentiments emanating from his joyful or sad experiences, they suggest a delightful poetic performance. “Farewell to My Love” is an example of Ba- lassa’s meditative love songs and lamentations:15 14 T. S. Eliot, THE WASTE LAND (New York, N. Y„ 1930, Fourth Edition), p. 12. 15 Watson Kirkconnell. THE MAGYAR MUSE (Winnipeg, Manitoba, 1933), p. 36.—Poetic translations from Hungarian into English are a formidable task; in this and the other essays the quotations vacillate between the quality of the Hungarian poems and their rendering in English from which, almost inevitably, the individual and indigenous artistry of the Hungarian poems is somewhat eluded, although —considering the circumstances—the translator was Unhappy is my lot; My pangs are great, God wot, My youth is turn’d to sighing For toil is hard to bear, My yoke is harsh to wear In spite of all my trying. The good old times have flown By winds of evil blown, And left me to my crying. When autumn dews are done Across the waning sun November winds come blowing. They snatch the falling leaves, Across the bitter eves Their yellow fragments strowing. Soon where I walk today Along the greenwood way Strides winter with its snowing. The teasing tone of some of his love poems recalls Ronsard’s following lines:16 Vous le voulez et le ne voulez pas, Vous le voulez et si ne l’osez dire. His poetry is not merely a medium of polite courting or amorous affectation; it is also an expression of playful honesty and deep sincerity. Today some of his poems are less effective than formerly, but then “a few centuries alter many things and even lines or stanzas of the most moving poem are perishable.”17 Balassa’s soldier poems, glorifying the free life of warriors on the frontiers of the nation, show his impetuousness as well as his cheerful and grim humor. The inference to be drawn from his soldier songs should not be that he liked bloodshed just for the sake of fighting. One must recall the times in which he lived. Without seeking an excuse for his topics and their implications, one can point out that to resolve the problems and differences of an agonizing nation, oppressed and exploited by military foes, war poems seemed functional means to counteract misfortune and humiliation. well prepared for his work. The difficulties may explain what made Flaubert say to Turgenev regarding Pushkin: “He is flat, your poet.” It is now generally agreed that the best translations cannot form a basis for a thoroughly reliable estimation; nonetheless, they can impart feelings, thoughts, and a design of expression which reveal the distinctly personal or unique qualities of the original work, despite the fact that “a translation is necessarily a compromise.” (William Mervin, THE KENYON REVIEW, Gambier, Ohio, Summer, 1954), p. 497. 16 Morris Bishop, op. cit., p. 119. 17 Anna Lesznai, VIRÁGOS SZERELEM (Budapest 1932), p. 6. (To be continued)
