Endre Ady

(1877-1919 / Hungary)

I Am The Son Of King Gog Of Magog - Poem by Endre Ady

I am the Son of King Gog of Magog(1)
I'm banging doors and walls to no avail -
yet I must ask this question as prologue:
may I weep in the grim Carpathian vale?
I came along Verecke's(2) famous path,
old Magyar tunes still tear into my chest -
will it arouse your Lordships' righteous wrath
as I burst in with new songs from the West?(3)
Pour in my ears your molten liquid lead,
let me become the new Vazul(4) of songs -
let me not hear the new songs you have bred:
Come, tread me down in furious, evil throngs!
But to the end, tortured, expecting nothing,
the song keeps soaring on its new-found wings:
even if cursed by hundred Founding Fathers -
triphanumt, new, Magyar, and true it rings.

Comments about I Am The Son Of King Gog Of Magog by Endre Ady

There is no comment submitted by members..

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?

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 31, 2010

[Report Error]