A fa és erdő motívum a magyar irodalomban

A fa és erdő motívum a magyar irodalomban

A fa s erd motvum a magyar kltszetben Trees and the Forest in Hungarian Poetry Balassi Blint: Borivknak val ldott szp Pnksdnek gynyr ideje, Mindent egszsggel ltogat ege, Hossz ton jrkot knnyebbt szele! Te nyitod rzskot meg illatozsra, Nma flemile torkt kiltsra, Fkot is te ltztetsz sokszn ruhkba. Nked virgoznak bokrok, szp violk, Foly vizek, kutak csak nked tisztulnak, Az j hamar lovak is csak benned vigadnak.

Mert fradsg utn fremedt tagokat Szp harmatos fvel hizlalod azokat, j ervel ptvn zshez inokat. St mg az vgbli j vitz katonk, Az szp szag mezt kik szllyel bjrjk, Most azok is vigadnak, s az idt mlatjk. Ki szp fvn lvn bnik j lovval, Ki vgan lakozik vitz bartjval, Ki penig vres fegyvert tisztttat csiszrral. jul mg az fld is mindentt tetled, Tisztul homlybl az g is tevled, Minden teremtett llat megindul tebenned. Ily j idt rvn Isten kegyelmbl, Dicsrjk szent nevt fejenkint j szvbl,

Igyunk, lakjunk egymssal vgan, szeretetbl! Blint Balassi: For wine drinkers Blessed sweet Pentecost's weather brightly glowing, Beautiful sky on all healthiness bestowing, Wind that brings relief onto tired wayfarers blowing! It is thou who givest perfume to the roses, The once mute nightingale now its song composes, And trees, too, thou dressest in many-coloured clothes. It's through thee that hedges bloom, violets appear; Flowing waters and wells through thee turn crystal clear, And our speedy stallions, too, prance along with good cheer. For after their long run, the tender grass bedews Their exhausted bodies, while their vigour renews, Infusing new energy in their nerves and sinews.

And even the good, brave frontier soldiers alight And through the scented fields roam about with delight, Now they, too, are overjoyed that the weather's so bright! In the soft grass leaving their horses to run free, With their brothers-in-arms they go off on a spree While with their blood-stained weapons their pages are busy. The whole earth is renewed, thanks to thee everywhere. Thanks to thee, the blue sky breaks through the misty air, And every living creature emerges from its lair. Enjoying, as we do, this weather through God's grace, From our hearts let us all His holy name praise, Let us drink, and to true friendship our glasses raise! Bonnerjea, Rene

Petfi Sndor: Fa leszek, ha Fa leszek, ha fnak vagy virga. Ha harmat vagy: n virg leszek. Harmat leszek, ha te napsugr vagy... Csak, hogy lnyink egyesljenek. Ha, lenyka, te vagy a mennyorszg: Akkor n csillag vltozom. Ha, lenyka, te vagy a pokol: (hogy Egyesljnk) n elkrhozom. Sndor Petfi: Ill be a tree Ill be a tree, if you are its flowers, Or a flower, if you are the dew; Ill be the dew, if you are the sunbeam,

Only to be united with you. My little girl, if you are the heaven I shall be a star above on high; My little girl, if you are hell-fire, To unite us, damned I shall die. C. F. Bowring Vajda Jnos: A vali erdben Odabenn a mly vadonban, A csalnos iharosban, Flrees vlgy lben, Sr rnyak enyhhelyben; Oh milyen j volna ottan, Abban a kis hzikban, lni, ldeglni, szpen,

Bkessgben, csndessgben! Nem trdni a vilggal, A vilg ezer bajval. Meggondolni hbortlan, Ami immr kzelebb van Illatos hegy oldalban, A tavaszi napsugrban, Nzni illand felhkbe, Mlt idkbe, jvendkbe s azutn, utvgre, szrevtlenl, megrve, Lehullani nmagtl, A kiszradt letfrl S ismeretlen srgdrbe'

Elalunni mindrkre S ott egyebet mit se tenni, Csak pihenni, csak pihenni Jnos Vajda: In the forest of Val Far off and deep in woodlands ways Where nettles lurk and maples blaze, A distant valleys heart has made A dim, serene retreat of shade. Ah, could my wandering steps repair To dwell within a cottage there, How sweet would such existence be In calmness and tranquillity! To give the world no anxious thought And let its evils go for nought;

To meditate in peace of soul Upon mans life, unmarrd and whole Upon the fragrant hills to lie Beneath the sunny April sky, And gaze upon the clouds that race Through past and future, time and space. This, then, were better after all, Unmarkd to live, and then to fall In silence down, unmovd by strife, From off the dying tree of life And so, unknown, sepulturd deep, For ever more to lie asleep Such quietude at last were best, And all we yearn for is to rest.

Kirkconnell, Watson Vajda Jnos: szi tjk Az gen a felh egymst zi-hajtja. Suhogva a parton hajlong a sikr. Csvlja fejt a hegylen a makkfa: Hogy oda megint az rmteli nyr! Gylemlik a holl, varj kavarogva. A cinege fzik a tskebokorba'. A kerti haraszton zokogja a szl: Elhervad a rzsa, lehull a levl. Elhervad a rzsa, lehull a levl! Ezrt szletnk ht, ez az leti cl? Csak eddig a plya, semmit se tovbb,

Vagy itten az ember csak ltzik t? Mi itten rk: a hall-e vagy a lt? Hol itten a kezdet, hol s van-e vg? Mi itt a csalds, hol itten az lom, Vajh innen-e, avvagy tl a hatron? Az gen a felh egymst zi-hajtja. Bujdosni a tarln indul a katang. Elnmul az erd, elszllt a galambja. Sirnkozik a falubli harang. Mezkn az rnyk, tengereken hab Mulik, szletik, mint mra a holnap. A szemfdelet rngatja hideg szl: Elhervad a rzsa, lehull a levl. Elhervad a rzsa, lehull a levl!

Hiba hisz ember, hiba reml? Ht semmi, de semmi, ami vigasztal Ott tl amaz rkon jra tavasszal? Ereszkedik a ravatal a gdrbe. Drgnek a hantok: rkre, rkre. A srra borul le h szeret: Semmit soha vissza a temet?! Az gen a felh egymst zi-hajtja. Lemegy a nap. A nyj hazatr. Tvolba vesz el halk, mla kolompja. Kilt a kuvik, szll a denevr. Srhalmot lelve az anya zokog. - Majd kigyul a csillag, kist a hold. S ott fenn a keresztfn suttogja a szl: Kinylik a rzsa, kihajt a levl!

Jnos Vajda: An autumn reverie Cloud chases cloud athwart the sky, The babbling foam curves round the coast, The tall oak shakes it's locks on high. As summer fades like a wan ghost ; The ravens whirl in sombre herds ; Upon the thorn-bush keenly blows The wind, and chills the trembling birds, Or through the dead leaves sobbing goes: Now falls the leaf, now fades the rose ; Are we born for a fate like theirs? Is this the sum of life ? Who knows What purpose rules our changing years! Do we, with our weak breath expire,

Or cast our robes as on we wend? Is death or life the victor here? Does grave begin, or cradle end? Cloud chases cloud athwart the sky. The doves abandon their green bower. The church-bell mourns to the chill air, Despondent from its darkling tower. Shadows on land, bubbles on sea, From birth to death for ever pass ; The wind rends their pale shroud and we Now fades the rose, now falls the leaf. Now fades the rose, now falls the leaf: Should man have faith in anything? The harvest of his hope is grief ;

Doth yon grave blossom in the Spring? The coffin in the earth is laid : The falling clods repeat " For ever," Since those who sleep in that cool shade Return to them that love them never. The sun slopes down the herds creep home. The solemn bell dies on the ear ; The barn-owl shrieks, the bat flits past. The mother sobs beside the bier. But now the stars float o'er the sky, The moon glides forth and, voice of hope, The wind sings o'er the Calvary " The leaf shall wake, the rose shall ope." Nora de Vallyi and Stuart, Dorothy

Ady Endre: Prizsban jrt az sz Prisba tegnap beszktt az sz. Szent Mihly tjn suhant nesztelen, Knikulban, halk lombok alatt S tallkozott velem. Ballagtam ppen a Szajna fel S gtek lelkemben kis rzse-dalok: Fstsek, furcsk, bsak, bborak, Arrl, hogy meghalok. Elrt az sz s sgott valamit, Szent Mihly tja beleremegett, Zm, zm: rpkdtek vgig az uton Trfs falevelek. Egy perc: a Nyr meg sem hklt bel

S Prisbl az sz kacagva szaladt. Itt jrt, s hogy itt jrt, n tudom csupn Nyg lombok alatt. Endre Ady: Autumn passed through Paris Autumn sliped into Paris yesterday, came silently down Boulevard St Michel, In sultry heat, past boughs sullen and still, and met me on its way. As I walked on to where the Seine flows by, little twig songs burned softly in my heart, smoky, odd, sombre, purple songs. I thought they sighed that I shall die. Autumn drew abreast and whispered to me, Boulevard St Michel that moment shivered.

Rustling, the dusty, playful leaves quivered, whirled forth along the way. One moment: summer took no heed: whereon, laughing, autumn sped away from Paris. That it was here, I alone bear witness, under the trees that moan. Bell, Doreen Kosztolnyi Dezs: szi reggeli Ezt hozta az sz. Hs gymlcsket vegtlon. Nehz, stt-smaragd szlt, hatalmas, jspisfny krtt, megannyi ds, tndkl kszert. Vzcspp iramlik egy kvr bogyrl, s elgurul, akr a brillins.

A pompa ez, rszvttelen, derlt, magba-fordul tkletessg. Jobb volna lni. mde tl a fk mr aranykezkkel intenek nekem. Dezs Kosztolnyi: Autumn breakfast These autumn brings. Refreshing fruits on a glass tray. Heavy, deep emerald of grapes, pears huge and jasper-lit, and all its lavish and refulgent gems. A juicedrop slithers from a berry's globe and rolls away, bright as a diamond. This pomp is short of sympathy, serene, perfection turning in upon itself. Better to live. And yet, beyond, the trees

already wave their golden arms to me. Dixon, Alan Jzsef Attila: Remnytelenl Lassan, tndve Az ember vgl homokos, szomor, vizes skra r, sztnz merengve s okos fejvel biccent, nem reml. n is gy prblok csals nlkl sztnzni knnyedn. Ezsts fejszesuhans jtszik a nyrfa leveln. A semmi gn l szivem, kis teste hangtalan vacog,

krje gylnek szeliden s nzik, nzik a csillagok. Attila Jzsef: Without Hope Slowly, broodingly All you arrive at in the end is a sad, washed-out, sandy plain, you gaze about, take it in, bend a wise head, nod; hope is in vain. Myself, I try to look about nonchalantly, without pretence. Axe-arcs shake their silver out rippling where the aspens dance. My heart sits on the twig of nothing, its little body shivering, dumb.

In calm unbroken gathering, staring, staring, the stars come. Morgan, Edwin Radnti Mikls: la recherche Rgi szeld estk, ti is emlkk nemesedtek! Kltkkel s fiatal felesgekkel koszorzott tndkl asztal, hova csszol a mltak iszapjn? hol van az j, amikor mg vgan szrkebartot ittak a frge bartok a szpszem karcsu pohrbl? Verssorok sztak a lmpk fnye krl, ragyog zld jelzk ringtak a metrum tajtkos tarajn s ltek a holtak s otthon voltak a foglyok, az eltnt drga bartok, verseket rtak a rg elesettek, szvkn Ukrajna, Hispnia, Flandria fldje.

Voltak, akik fogukat csikortva rohantak a tzben, s harcoltak, csak azrt, mert ellene mitse tehettek, s mg riadozva aludt krlttk a szzad a mocskos j fedezke alatt, a szobjuk jrt az eszkben, mely sziget s barlang volt nkik e trsadalomban. Volt, ahov lepecstelt marhakocsikban utaztak, dermedten s fegyvertelen lltak az aknamezkn, s volt, ahov nknt mentek, fegyverrel a kzben, nmn, mert tudtk, az a harc, az az gyk ott lenn, s most a szabadsg angyala rzi nagy lmuk az jben. S volt ahov ... mindegy. Hova tntek a blcs borozsok? szlltak a gyors behivk, szaporodtak a verstredkek,

s szaporodtak a rncok a szpmosoly fiatal nk ajka krl s szeme aljn; elnehezedtek a tndrlpt lenyok a hboru hallgatag vei kzben. Hol van az j, az a kocsma, a hrsak alatt az az asztal? s akik lnek mg, hol vannak a harcra tiportak? hangjuk hallja szivem, kezem rzi kezk szoritst, mvk idzgetem s torzik arnya kibomlik, s mrem (nma fogoly), - jajjal teli Szerbia ormn. Hol van az j? az az j mr vissza se j soha tbb, mert ami volt, annak ms tvlatot d a hall mr. lnek az asztalnl, megbjnak a nk mosolyban s beleisznak majd a poharunkba, kik eltemetetlen, tvoli erdkben s idegen legelkn alusznak. Mikls Radnti: la recherche Gentle past evenings, you too are ennobled through recollection!

Brilliant table adorned by poets and their young women, where have you slid in the mud of the memory? where is the night when the exuberant friends still merrily drank the native wine of the land from slender glasses that sparkled their glances? Lines of poetry swam around the glow of the lamps and bright green adjectives swayed on the foaming crest of the metre and still the dead were alive, the prisoners home, and the dear vanished friends wrote verse, those fallen long ago whose hearts lie under the soil of Spain and Flanders and Ukraine. Some of them charged forward gritting their teeth in the fire and fought only because there was nothing they could do to avoid it, and while their company fitfully slept around them under the soiled shelter of night, they remembered their rooms of the past, calm caves and islands, their retreat from this society.

Some of them travelled helpless in sealed cattle trucks to places, some stood numbly waiting unarmed in freezing minefields, some also went voluntarily, silent with guns in their hands for clearly they saw their personal place and role in the fighting now the angel of freedom guards their great dreams in the night. Some... doesnt matter. Where have the wise, winy evenings vanished? Swift swarmed the draftnotes and swift multiplied the poetic fragments as did the wrinkles around the lips and eyes of the wives with enchanting smiles. The elf-footed girls grew dull and heavy in loneliness over the silent and endless war years. Where is the night, the tavern and, under the lime trees, that table? Where are the living and where are the others trampled in battle?

Still, my heart hears their voices, my hand still holds their handshakes, thus I quote their works and behold their proportions and stature, silent prisoner myself in Serbias wailing mountains. Where is the night? Such a night perhaps may never recur, for death gives always a different perspective to all that has vanished. They still sit at the table, they hide in the smiles of the women, and they will sip from our glasses, the friends still unburied and waiting, lying in distant forests, asleep in foreign pastures. Orszag-Land, Thomas Radnti Mikls: Tajtkos g Tajtkos gen ring a hold,

csodlkozom, hogy lek. Szorgos hall kutatja ezt a kort s akikre rlel, mind olyan fehrek. Krlnz nha s felsikolt az v, krlnz, aztn elall. Micsoda sz lapul mgttem ujra s micsoda fjdalomtl tompa tl! Vrzett az erd s a forg idben vrzett minden ra. Nagy s sttl szmokat rklt a szl a hra. Megrtem azt is, ezt is, slyosnak rzem a levegt, neszekkel teljes, langyos csnd lel, mint szletsem eltt.

Megllok itt a fa tvben, lombjt zgatja mrgesen. Lenyl egy g. Nyakonragad? nem vagyok gyva, gynge sem, csak fradt. Hallgatok. S az g is nmn motoz hajamban s ijedten. Feledni kellene, de n soha mg semmit sem feledtem. A holdra tajtk zdl, az gen sttzld svot von a mreg. Cigarettt sodrok magamnak, lassan, gondosan. lek. 1940. jnius 8.

Mikls Radnti: Foamy sky The moon sways on a foamy sky, I am amazed that I live. An overzealous death searches this age and those it discovers are all so very pale. At times the year looks around and shrieks, looks around and then fades away. What an autumn cowers behind me again and what a winter, made dull by pain. The forest bled and in the spinning time blood flowed from every hour. Large and looming numbers were scribbled by the wind onto the snow. I lived to see that and this, the air feels heavy to me.

A war sound-filled silence hugs me as before my nativity. I stop here at the foot of a tree, its crown swaying angrily. A branch reaches down to grab my neck? I'm not a coward, nor am I weak, just tired. I listen. And the frightened branch explores my hair. To forget would be best, but I have never forgotten anything yet. Foam pours over the moon and the poison draws a dark green line on the horizon. I roll myself a cigarette slowly, carefully. I live.

Gina Gnczi Nemes Nagy gnes: Fk Tanulni kell. A tli fkat. Ahogyan talpig zzmarsak. Mozdthatatlan fggnyk. Meg kell tanulni azt a svot, hol a kristly mr fstlg, s kdbe szik t a fa, akr a test emlkezetbe. s a folyt a fk mgtt, vadkacsa nma szrnyait, s a vakfehr, kk jszakt, amelyben csuklys trgyak llnak, meg kell tanulni itt a fk

kimondhatatlan tetteit. gnes Nemes Nagy: Winter trees You have to learn. The trees in winter. As hoarfrost dresses foot, top, centre curtains of white that nothing moves You have to learn those secret grooves where crystals start to turn to vapour and trees fade over into fog just as bodies flow into memory. And the river behind the trees flapping mute wings of skeins of geese, the blues of blinding ice-white nights in which some hooded objects linger this is our task: We have to seize the trees' inexplicable deeds.

Makkai, Adam Balzs F. Attila: nekel a fa a madarak lenyeltk a hangot, de begykbl felbugyborkolt: dallamok, szavak, formk potyogtak az avarra. a fk nekelnek mormogja a klt monitor fnye mlyti rncait nem ltja ht nem tudja: ez mr az regsg jele tovbb ptyg a billentyzeten mindent elment valahov: tn egyszer megnyitja valaki

Attila Balzs F.: The Tree Is Singing birds have swallowed the sound, but it has bubbled up from their pouch: tunes, words, shapes kept dropping on the carpet of fallen leaves. trees are singing, the poet mutters his wrinkles seem sharper by the light of a screen he doesnt see them and so he doesnt know: these are already marks of old age he keeps strumming on the keyboard he saves everything in some doc: one day perhaps someone will open them N. Ullrich Katalin 2011-2013.

Forest fancy Facebook Comenius project of Debreceni Csokonai Vitz Mihly Gimnzium, Hungary and Viinijrven koulu, Finland

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