Dalriada - Szondi’s two squires I. dalszöveg (lyrics)
[Dalriada - Szondi’s two squires I. dalszöveg lyrics]
Enshrouded in clouds and stand
The ruins of Drégel, where sunlight linger
At this day of fierce battle
Opposite it a green and
Peaceful mountain ridge, on top is which a
Wooden gravelope stands with flags colorful
Two lads kneeling at ots foot
The scene reminds
Of a crucifix, with their harps in hand
While in the valley beneath
With song and dance
All and his men celebrate victory
"Why is it now Szondi’s
Two singers won’t come, why?
They who’re like heavenly rose
Trees with sweet nightingale voices
I wish they would chant and
From words weave a wreath
Fit to shine on a goddess’s neck!"
Shimmering green the mountain ridge
Whit it's green barrow on top
The wooden gravelope erect ont
He infidel’s grave:
Here the heavenly two are kneeling
With hapr in hand while sounding it in tears:
And up came Márton, the
Priest from Nagyorosz
Sent by the grom Ali to
Pass in his proud word:
Worthy Szondi, surrender! Or else perish
"My good Sirs! Wy would you
Chant the time away
On a bleak barrow, under a gravelope?
Come with me, down there
Mirth and mead await you-"
Tell him, Márton, these my words:
Never will Szondi take mercy
From your Master! His mery lies with Jesus
Where he finds it enytime!"
"Mead and figs, palm, fruit's
From the Orient
All that grows int he Great Sultan’s Enpire
Scented herbs, costly ointments
Today Ali celebrate his victory!"
The ruins of Drégel, where sunlight linger
At this day of fierce battle
Opposite it a green and
Peaceful mountain ridge, on top is which a
Wooden gravelope stands with flags colorful
Two lads kneeling at ots foot
The scene reminds
Of a crucifix, with their harps in hand
While in the valley beneath
With song and dance
All and his men celebrate victory
"Why is it now Szondi’s
Two singers won’t come, why?
They who’re like heavenly rose
Trees with sweet nightingale voices
I wish they would chant and
From words weave a wreath
Fit to shine on a goddess’s neck!"
Shimmering green the mountain ridge
Whit it's green barrow on top
The wooden gravelope erect ont
He infidel’s grave:
Here the heavenly two are kneeling
With hapr in hand while sounding it in tears:
And up came Márton, the
Priest from Nagyorosz
Sent by the grom Ali to
Pass in his proud word:
Worthy Szondi, surrender! Or else perish
"My good Sirs! Wy would you
Chant the time away
On a bleak barrow, under a gravelope?
Come with me, down there
Mirth and mead await you-"
Tell him, Márton, these my words:
Never will Szondi take mercy
From your Master! His mery lies with Jesus
Where he finds it enytime!"
"Mead and figs, palm, fruit's
From the Orient
All that grows int he Great Sultan’s Enpire
Scented herbs, costly ointments
Today Ali celebrate his victory!"