Selections from

Translated by
William N. Loew
[of the New York Bar].

An enlarged and revised edition of the translator’s former works:
“Gems From Petőfi,” 1881.
“Magyar Songs,” 1887.
“Magyar Poetry,” 1899.

“Freedom and love
Are dear to me;
My life I give,
Sweet love, for thee,
Yet love I give
    For liberty.”

Alexander Petőfi.




At the end of September. Alexander Petőfi
Forgotten song. Alexander Endrődi
A flower I would say. Paul Gyulai
To a lady. Paul Gyulai
In Wilhelmine’s album. Francis Kölcsey
My love. Alexander Petőfi
The maiden’s sorrow. Michael Vörösmarty
Haidé. Alexander Endrődi
O, judge me not. Alexander Petőfi
Good-by. Anthony Radó
In the forest. Alexander Petőfi
I am weary. Paul Gyulai
If my tears. Coloman Tóth
Dying love. Michael Vörösmarty
Love songs. Alexander Kisfaludy
To Mary. Paul Gyulai
My wife and my sword. Alexander Petőfi
The rosebush trembles. Alexander Petőfi
From secret songs. Louis Csáktornyai
Glory. Louis Dóczy
A song. Géza Zichy
I long to see you once again. Paul Gyulai
What is a kiss. Louis Dóczy
Fair maiden of a village fair. Alexander Petőfi
Although not fair. Charles Szász
Revery. Michael Vörösmarty
Blue violet. Gregorius Czuczor
Pretty girl. Gregorius Czuczor
Remembrance. Paul Gyulai
Yea, be proud. Charles Szász
The tresses of thy jet black-hair. Charles Szász
Woe him. Joseph Komócsy
Wonder not. Paul Gyulai
The kiss. Joseph Kiss
How I should like to die. Johanna Wohl
To forget. Joseph Lévay
A complaint. Alexander Vachott
Love’s memory. Joseph Lévay
Lenke’s song. Joseph Bajza
I still love. John Bulla
Sweet dream. Julius Rudnyánszky
To a young girl. Andrew Pap
Why conceal? Victor Dalmady
The dark eye. Michael Vörösmarty
Ye stars, bright stars. Julius Kéry
Midnight hour. Joseph Hevesy
Hussar song. Gabriel Döbrentei
Songs. Nicholas Markus
Approaching steps. Emerich Gáspár
God does not forbid. Julius Szávay
Hair, lip, eye. Michael Vörösmarty
Songs. Ladislaus Inczédy
She was beautiful... Géza Udvardy
Love. Julius Szentessy
Serenade. Samuel Nyilas
A sweet sound. Béla Szász
A city romance. Charles Berecz
The flowers withered... Aladár Benedek
There is no hell... Gerő Szász
Farewell serenade. Count Géza Zichy
Ah! this moment. Gerő Szász
Love me. William Győry
The sun’s rays loved her. Géza Udvardy
I do not watch... Nicklas Szemere
Sound of music... William Zoltán
Songs. Joseph Csukási
Songs. Louis Palágyi
Longing for spring. Julius Sárosy
Maud. Michael Szabolcska
A song. John Dengi
I see thee... John Vajda
How I love you... Louis Tolnay
Your kerchief’s red. John Erdélyi
Why wert thou not born? Michael Szabolcska
If by frail maiden... Louis Bartók
When she departed. Paul Gyulai
Book-lore is yours... Coloman Tóth
Only me... Ladislaus Torkos
If I were rich. Hiador
Songs. Julius Rudnyánszky
Glory and love. Stephen Rónay
You said... Pásztói
One year later. Béla Szász
What do you care? John Bulla
The wind has ceased. Charles Zilahi
Remain as the rose... Louis Csáktornyai
The first kiss. Victor Dalmady
A song. John Erdélyi
Resignation. Edmond Jakab
My last will. Joseph Eötvös
To forget. Cornelius Ábrányi


The poet Alexander Vachott
My songs. Alexander Petőfi
In memory of little Ellen. Charles Szász
Birthday thoughts. John Arany
And old story. Augustin Greguss
Solitude. John Vajda
Song of sorrow. Nicklas Markus
On the death of a little child. Michael Vörösmarty
Longing for death. Alexander Petőfi
To my boy. John Arany
True poetry. Paul Dömötör
Curse and blessing. Alexander Petőfi
Fifty years. Charles Szász
A tear. Joseph Lévay
Sweet joy. Alexander Petőfi
The maniac. Alexander Petőfi
Song in the night. Charles Szász
A prayer. Daniel Berzsenyi
A migrating bird. William Győry
The good old landlord. Alexander Petőfi
Two little stories. Louis Pósa
I am. Emil Ábrányi
At the bier of a girl. Joseph Komócsy
Aunt Sarah. Alexander Petőfi
Death. Coloman Tóth
Nameless heroes. Cornelius Ábrányi
Two brothers. Alexander Petőfi
The minstrel’s sorrow. John Arany
Apotheosis. Maurus Jókai
On my own birthday. Julius Sárosy
Advice. Paul Gyulai
The unbidden guest. Joseph Lévay
Good Friday. Emil Ábrányi
At the end of the year. Alexander Petőfi
At the hamlet’s outskirts. Alexander Petőfi
The magyar noble. Alexander Petőfi
The Slav student’s song. Michael Vörösmarty
The imprisoned lion. Alexander Petőfi
If born a man, than be a man. Alexander Petőfi
Pale woman. Coloman Tóth
My wife is dead. Alexander Petőfi
Vanitatum Vanitas. Francis Kölcsey
A dreamy song. Ladislaus Inczédy
A broken toy. Julius Vértesy
A fleeting song. Ladislaus Buday
Aboo. Anthony Radó
Royal wedding. Emil Ábrányi
The woman, cold. Andrew Kozma
My own statue. Eugene Heltai
The tragedy of a poet. Edward Pap
Desire. Michael Vörösmarty
A quiet song. John Arany
A child’s dreams. Alexander Vachott
My oath. Coloman Tóth
A last sight. Paul Bozzay
Poetical is... Paul Dömötör
The end. Emil Makai
I am happy. Nicklas Szemere
My verses. Zoltán Balogh
To hope. Otto Herepei
Revery. Aladár Benedek
When I am dead... Joseph Lévay
Smiling. Emil Ábrányi
The good old song. Charles Szomory
The muse. Anthony Radó
To my beloved ones. John Földváry
The tears. Emil Makai
Parting. Andrew Tóth
Farewell. John Vajda
When once the grave’s... Joseph Komócsy
First meeting. Joseph Prém
A story. Andrew Kozma
Deep in thought... Alexander Endrődi
Too late. Alexander Endrődi
Confession. Fruzina Szalay
My share in life. Daniel Berzsenyi
Teach me. Iduna
Come death. Julius Rudnyánszky
At night. Julius Varsányi
A white dove. Joseph Lévay
In the graveyard. Joseph Lévay
Visions. Iduna
Let they respond... Andrew Tóth
Morn and eve. John Arany
The Winter. Charles Szász
The laurel tree. Emil Ábrányi
The captive stork. John Arany
On the Danube. Alexander Petőfi
Village hours. Michael Tompa
Evensong. Francis Kölcsey
Autumn days. Coloman Tóth
The bush and the wind. Edmund Jakab
The clouds. Paul Gyulai
Spring song. John Erdélyi
Voices from Eger. Alexander Petőfi
Autumn song. Joseph Bajza
In a village. Paul Gyulai
At home. Alexander Petőfi
The beauteous flower. Michael Vörösmarty
Bird voices. Michael Vörösmarty
In the evening. Coloman Tóth
What use? Alexander Petőfi
Song of the dogs and wolves. Alexander Petőfi
Nightingale’s song. Charles Szász
The forest home. Alexander Petőfi
For whom this mourning? Stephen Rónay
The ruins of the inn. Alexander Petőfi
Streamlet and stream. Alexander Petőfi
’Tis night. Alexander Petőfi
The bird to its brood. Michael Tompa
The child and the rainbow. John Arany
The bitter cup. Michael Vörösmarty
Death. Géza Zichy
From afar. Alexander Petőfi
Look not on me. John Arany
Memento. Alexander Szabó
It is not then. Victor Dalmady
Twilight. Alexander Petőfi
A grave. John Kiss
Wolf-adventure. Alexander Petőfi
The evening bells. Gustav Lauka
The Cypress. Michael Tompa
On autumn eve. Michael Szabolcska
The blessed house. Edmund Jakab
When roaming in the forest. Louis Bartók
Sere leaves. Julius Szávay
Thou vale. Louis Bartók
In the Campagna. Anthony Radó
The evening. Alexander Petőfi
Night and star. Michael Vörösmarty
Winter twilight. Charles Szász
In the forest. Louis Palágyi
The wind. Alexander Petőfi
End of autumn. John Arany
The comforter. John Arany
The west. Ladislaus Torkos
The desert willow. John Arany
At a vintage. Paul Gyulai
Time flies. Julius Rudnyánszky
Evening song. Fruzina Szalay
Autumn greeting. Ágost Greguss
The summer’s eve. Victor Dalmady
In the forest of Vaál. John Vajda
The Alföld. Alexander Petőfi
Swan-song. Andrew Pap
Autumn scene. Michael Tompa
From the grave. John Vajda
From the “cricket-songs”. Alexander Endrődi
God bless thee. Paul Gyulai
Autumn-song. Alexander Endrődi
On a railroad. Alexander Petőfi
Spring. Otto Herepei
Winter and summer. Paul Dömötör
Wintertime, summertime. Michael Tompa
My dreams. Alexander Petőfi
The imprisoned bird. Andrew Kozma
In the street. Julius Rudnyánszky
Animal literature. Coloman Tóth
Hortobágy, my Hortobágy. Michael Szabolcska
The death of the butterfly. Emil Ábrányi


Of many a girl.
The star is but a star.
My little flute.
Were I a brooklet.
My hat I pulled.
I curse thee not.
The bobolink’s nest.
I would come to see thee.
In morning’s down.
Thy image.
How I would like to plough.
The raven on Good Friday laves.
The starry sky.
My father’s dead.
In forest and in meadows green.
Three stars are in the sky.
You cannot bid the flower. Alexander Petőfi
Not a mother.
To sleep, to sleep.
Strike up Gipsy!
Mary, dear!
Hearest thou me, Kőrösher maid.
Thee I love.
I will yet see the day.
The leaf is falling. Alexander Petőfi
Beauteous, brightly shining star. Charles Kisfaludy
Nine it has struck, evening has come.
The maid I loved.
Swallow beat against he pane.
Into the kitchen door I strolled. Alexander Petőfi
O’er all the globe.
In my garden.
They have laid his corpse.
Through the village. Alexander Petőfi
Down into the corn-field.
A mouse-hued steed I had of old. John Arany
In the lowland.
It’s raining.
Through the woods.
The lowering clouds. Alexander Petőfi
Look, my rose.
How bright the stars.
On Tisza’s shore. Charles Kisfaludy
Dainty, sweet forget-me-not.
Danube’s waters, Tisza’s waters.
The rosebush on the hillside grows.
Mournful is the day.
Thou art, thou art.
At the funeral. Alexander Petőfi
Rosy, rosy, rosy.
The swallow swiftly flies.
Forest, forest.
How vast this world. Alexander Petőfi
Come in, my Rose.
In all the world one sweet girl.
On an ass the shepherd rides. Alexander Petőfi
Bargain. Alexander Petőfi
It’s after Easter.
Marosh river gently flows.
A cap of red velvet.
Beauteous is the forest.
The sun gives life. Coloman Tóth
All night long I drank good wine.
Love is, love is a dark pit. Alexander Petőfi
Louis Kossuth sends us greeting.
Fair exchange.
High in the air.
In the churchyard of Ormód.
Weeping-willow twigs. Elemér Boruth
Happy night. Alexander Petőfi


The legend of the Wonderful Hunt. John Arany
The bards of Wales. John Arany
After death. Alexander Endrődi
Beautiful Helen. Michael Vörösmarty
Minstrel and king. John Eötvös
Ladislaus V. John Arany
The second wife. William Győry
The frozen child. Joseph Eötvös
Mistress Agnes. John Arany
Call to the ordeal. John Arany
Bor, the hero. John Arany
Judith and Holofernes. Eugene Rákosi
Clara Zách. John Arany
A midnight visit. Paul Gyulai
Christ in Rome. Anthony Várady
Midnight duel. John Arany
Burial. Michael Tompa
Kont. John Garay
The romance of the bee. John Arany
Judith Simon. Joseph Kiss
The last charity. Alexander Petőfi
The stepdaughter. Louis Tolnai
The hero’s grave. Michael Vörösmarty
Christ. Joseph Kiss
The stone saint. Ladislaus Torkos
The ruby peak. Ladislaus Névy
The bells of Strassbourg. Anthony Várady
The King and the Poet. Cornelius Ábrányi Jr.
Miss Agatha. Joseph Kiss
A modern Delilah. Gregory Szász
In the confessional. Alexander Szabó
The Mother of Matthias Hunyadi. John Arany
Coriolanus. Béla Joseph Tárkányi
The veteran. John Garay
The sorrowing husband. Charles Kisfaludy
The song of the sewing machine. Joseph Kiss
The fire is all ablaze. Alexander Csizmadia
Christ before Pilate. Charles Szász
Icarus. Michael Tompa
Rachel’s lamentation. John Arany
Jehovah. Joseph Kiss
The death of Pan. Julius Reviczky


The living statue. Michael Vörösmarty
My fatherland. Alexander Petőfi
The stork. Michael Tompa
Sweet fatherland. Coloman Lisznyai
The fallen statue. Alexander Petőfi
The God of the Magyars. Alexander Petőfi
Mohács. Charles Kisfaludy
Rákóczi March.
A summons. Michael Vörösmarty
National song. Alexander Petőfi
The forsaken mother. Michael Vörösmarty
One thought torments me. Alexander Petőfi
Farewell. Joseph Eötvös
Apotheosis. Joseph Bajza
Hymn. Francis Kölcsey
Beggar song. John Arany
Dear captain mine. Paul Gyulai
Mohács. Joseph Eötvös
The Magyar lady. John Garay
The Magyar poet. Michael Vörösmarty
The homeless. Michael Vörösmarty
A sigh. Joseph Bajza
War song. Alexander Petőfi
The pilgrim. John Garay
Solomon’s curse. Michael Vörösmarty
If God. Alexander Petőfi
The song from Fót. Michael Vörösmarty
Farewell. Alexander Petőfi
A hymn. Michael Vörösmarty
I am a Magyar. Alexander Petőfi
A holy grave. Alexander Petőfi
To my fatherland. Charles Szász
Forward. Coloman Tóth
On a sick bed. Paul Gyulai
I dream of gory days. Alexander Petőfi
To Francis Liszt. Michael Vörösmarty
Drunk for the country’s sake. Alexander Petőfi
Who would believe? Alexander Petőfi
Hungarian music. Charles Szász
My native country’s charming bounds. Charles Kisfaludy
In my native land. Alexander Petőfi
The dream. Alexander Petőfi
The hoary Gipsy. Michael Vörösmarty
Ragged heroes. Alexander Petőfi
A burial in foreign lands. Géza Zichy
Farewell. Joseph Bajza
Wanderer’s song. Kunoss
To the American Hungarians. Emil Ábrányi


And again I come to you, Magyar Americans and to you English-speaking students of foreign literature, with a new volume of my translations from Magyar Poetry.

I need not repeat here what I said in the preface to the last volume, which was published about ten years ago, that my work in this field is by no means to be ascribed to any ambition on my part to be recognized as a God-born son of song.

As a token of my undying love for my native land, which a residence of more than forty years in the United States has not diminished, I devote my time, — so much as my profession, the practice of law, leaves me unemployed, — to the earnest attempt to make the Magyar’s beautiful poetry known to the English-speaking peoples, and to give to the Hungarian Americans and to their children already assimilated by America, a pleasant reminder of the home of their fathers.

This new volume is a new volume indeed. In the light of candid criticism the contents have been carefully revised and the more mature culture of years spent on the new translations.

The seventy odd translations of the first edition and the two hundred and fifty translations of the third, have grown into more than four hundred translations now given.

The “Review of Hungary’s Poetical literature”, contained in my last volume, I thought best to omit.

At that time, I think, it was the first comprehensive review written in English, — not counting brief reviews in English and American Cyclopaedies; but at best, it was compressed into very narrow bounds and must have been thoroughly biased by my Magyar Chauvinism. To-day two splendid histories of Hungarian literature exist, dealing with Magyar Poetry far better and with superior ability than did I.

One of these volumes is that of Dr. Jur. Emil Reich ’(London, Jarrold & Sons 1898’) and the other that of Frederick Riedl Ph. D. ’(Edmund Gosse’s Histories of the Literatures of the World, London, 1906, William Heinemann’).

Now that these Histories of Magyar Literature are within the reach of the student, there is no reason for my review.

This volume is my offering of patriotic love on altar of my dear old fatherland. The preparation of it has given me infinite joy. Despite my more than three score years of age and my more than two score of life in New York, its preparation has kept me young and caused me to be a “magyar ember” whose heart throbs faster when he hears the Magyar song.

I hope, that this volume will keep alive in the hearts of the Magyars in the United States the love of home; I hope it may cause the English-speaking peoples to recognize in Magyar poetry the beauty, the wealth, the genius of Magyarland’s minstrels.

If it does that, “then I have done well; then indeed I am richly rewarded.” In conclusion let me state here distinctly and emphatically, that this volume is not intended to be an historical anthology of Magyar poetical literature, nor does it dare to claim any degree of completeness, covering the broad field; it has only culled a flower here and another there.

Nor has any chronological order been kept in view. There are sweet singers of song in Hungary whom I have not cited here, but I believe I have produced an anthology fairly representative.

New York, October 1908.

Published by the
Amerikai Magyar Népszava, 198 E. 10th St. New York