Janos Arany

(1817-1882 / Hungary)

The Mother Of King Matthias


Elizabeth
Szilágyi
swiftly wrote a letter;
it was moist
with loving tears
many, too, and bitter.

For her son,
held in Prague,
were these fair words she wrote,
harshly kept
in prison cell;
good news to him it brought.

'Do not move
my sweet boy
from Prague's famous city;
I'll pay the ransom
to get you out
from your captivity.

Gold coins,
silver, too,
will save you from your doom;
in my heart
there is the thought
you must come back home.

Do not start,
do not move,
my only orphaned son;
who shall I
have, if you're
enticed by evil men?

This note must
be handed to
Matthias Hunyadi;
what I've writ
with my own hand
no other should see!'

On wax of black
she pressed down
her signet ring of seal;
faithful servants
of her court
lounge, leaning at a rail.

'Who will here
quickest take
to Prague this note for him?
Sacks of gold
horses, too,
I'll pay for weary limb.'

'I'll take the note
I'll take the note
seven days the distance clears.'
'That will seem
to my heart
seven whole long years.'

'I'll take the note
In three days
the answer you will see.'
'In this heart
so full of love
three whole months 'twill be.'

'Oh my God,
oh my God,
wings a man requires,
that he may
attain the speed
a mother's heart desires.'

What comes here?
Waht comes here?
Look, a pitch black raven;
one like it
on the shield
of Hunyad is engraven.

He swoops down
he swoops down,
within a tempest bleack;
from her hand
he has snatched
the letter in hi beak.

'Quick, rush quick,
catch the bird,
it must from him be taken.'
on its track
a crwod sets forth,
that they may shoot the raven.

Not a sign
of that bird,
though they a hundred shoot;
not a word
not a trace
of the bird that seized the note.

Morn' to eve
woods are searched,
the route they saw it go;
when, night comes,
hark! a knock
at the widow's window.

'Who knocks here?
Who knocks here?'
It is the raven black:
in its beak
is the note,
or one like it, brought back.

Red the seal
is this time,
and perfect the folding.
What great joy!
What delight!
His fine hand beholding.

Submitted: Tuesday, October 05, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Mother Of King Matthias by Janos Arany )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. गु बाजिबाय, Ronjoy Brahma
  2. A sense of destiny, Mark Heathcote
  3. Love Is In The Air, Johnny Goyena
  4. A knight errant!, PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
  5. I am free to having, gajanan mishra
  6. Does Anyone Want Beautiful Poems Cried t.., mary douglas
  7. Largest house., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
  8. Tears Of A Rose, Electric Lady
  9. I am satisfied with this life, gajanan mishra
  10. Misogyny, Pius Didier

Poem of the Day

poet Christina Georgina Rossetti

Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]