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Arany János: The Ballad of Agnes (Ágnes asszony in English)

Portre of Arany János

Ágnes asszony (Hungarian)

Ballada

Ágnes asszony a patakban
Fehér lepedőjét mossa;
Fehér leplét, véres leplét
A futó hab elkapdossa.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Odagyűl az utcagyermek:
Ágnes asszony, mit mos kelmed?
"Csitt te, csitt te! csibém vére
Keveré el a gyolcs leplet."
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Összefutnak a szomszédnők:
Ágnes asszony, hol a férjed?
"Csillagom, hisz ottbenn alszik!
Ne menjünk be, mert fölébred."
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Jön a hajdu: Ágnes asszony,
A tömlöcbe gyere mostan.
"Jaj, galambom, hogy' mehetnék,
Míg e foltot ki nem mostam!"
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Mély a börtön: egy sugár-szál
Odaférni alig képes;
Egy sugár a börtön napja,
Éje pedig rémtül népes.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Szegény Ágnes naphosszanta
Néz e kis világgal szembe,
Néz merően, - a sugárka
Mind belefér egy fél szembe.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Mert, alighogy félre fordul,
Rémek tánca van körűle;
Ha ez a kis fény nem volna,
Úgy gondolja: megőrülne.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Ím azonban, időtelve,
Börtönének zárja nyílik:
Ágnes a törvény előtt
Megáll szépen, ahogy illik.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Öltözetjét rendbe hozza,
Kendőjére fordít gondot,
Szöghaját is megsimítja
Nehogy azt higgyék: megbomlott.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Hogy belép, a zöld asztalnál
Tisztes őszek ülnek sorra;
Szánalommal néznek ő rá,
Egy se mérges, vagy mogorva.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

"Fiam, Ágnes, mit miveltél?
Szörnyü a bűn, terhes a vád;
Ki a tettet végrehajtá
Szeretőd ím maga vall rád."
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

"Ő bitón fog veszni holnap,
Ő, ki férjedet megölte;
Holtig vizen és kenyéren
Raboskodva bünhödöl te."
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Körültekint Ágnes asszony,
Meggyőződni ép eszérül;
Hallja a hangot, érti a szót,
S míg azt érti: "meg nem őrül."
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

De amit férjéről mondtak
A szó oly visszásan tetszik;
Az világos csak, hogy őt
Haza többé nem eresztik.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Nosza sírni, kezd zokogni,
Sűrü záporkönnye folyván:
Liliomról pergő harmat,
Hulló vizgyöngy hattyu tollán.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

"Méltóságos nagy uraim!
Nézzen Istent kegyelmetek:
Sürgetős munkám van otthon,
Fogva én itt nem űlhetek."
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

"Mocsok esett lepedőmön,
Ki kell a vérfoltot vennem!
Jaj, ha e szenny ott maradna,
Hová kéne akkor lennem!"
     Oh! irgalom atyja ne hagyj el.

Összenéz a bölcs törvényszék
Hallatára ily panasznak.
Csendesség van. Hallgat a száj,
Csupán a szemek szavaznak.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

"Eredj haza, szegény asszony!
Mosd fehérre mocskos lepled;
Eredj haza, Isten adjon
Erőt ahhoz és kegyelmet."
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

S Ágnes asszony a patakban
Lepedőjét újra mossa;
Fehér leplét, tiszta leplét
A futó hab elkapdossa.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el

Mert hiában tiszta a gyolcs,
Benne többé semmi vérjel:
Ágnes azt még egyre látja
S épen úgy, mint akkor éjjel.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Virradattól késő estig
Áll a vízben, széke mellett:
Hab zilálja rezgő árnyát,
Haja fürtét kósza szellet.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Holdvilágos éjjelenkint,
Mikor a víz fodra csillog,
Maradozó csattanással,
Fehér sulyka messze villog.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

És ez így megy évrül-évre;
Télen-nyáron, szünet nélkül;
Harmat-arca hő napon ég,
Gyönge térde fagyban kékül.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

Őszbe fordul a zilált haj,
Már nem holló, nem is ében;
Torz-alakú ránc verődik
Szanaszét a síma képen.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.

S Ágnes asszony a patakban
Régi rongyát mossa, mossa -
Fehér leple foszlányait
A szilaj hab elkapdossa.
     Oh! irgalom atyja, ne hagyj el.



Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotationhttp://mek.oszk.hu

The Ballad of Agnes (English)


Washing her white and snowy pile of sheet,
In fresh well-water Agnes sinks her feet,
The foamy stream is washing away the crimson-red stains,
Still washing her pile of sheet, Agnes in that state remains.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
Around her, the insolent street-children are gathering,
‘Agnes, what linen do you keep on washing?’- enquiring.
‘Hush! hush! you mischievous, naughty child,
the farm-hens’ blood was staining the sheet-pile.’
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
But the neighbourhood are too gossipy:
‘Where’s your husband, Agnes, you holy?’
‘But why, he is sleeping in there, my dear,
Don’t enter though, he might wake up, I fear.’
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
The herdsman’s imperative: ‘Agnes, you go in jail!
Off you go quickly there, since you are a coffin nail!’
‘Ah, my darling, how could I leave
until the stain’s gone from my grief?’ 
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
The prison is sombre, there is no sunray,
Just as little as a needle in the hay.
A single sunray is the jail’s midday,
and night there is a nightmare like doomsday.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
 
Poor Agnes is sitting in the very jail,
Gazing, wide-eyed, at that single sunray.
That forlorn sunray would permeate but a single eye,
But Agnes would just gaze into space without a cry.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
For when turning away from that poor sunbeam,
Dreadful cadavers would remind her of the stream.
Were it not for that little sunbeam amidst the nightmare,
The deadly dance of white ghosts would drive her mad with their glare.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
Time’s just passing by, and then the horses neigh, and crows the cock,
when at eight sharp strikes the clock, would open at once the prison-lock,
and Agnes would find herself in a strict court of law,
appearing, neat as a new pin, though she drew the short straw.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
In front of the men of justice and all the venire,
She enters in good care of her bun-hair lest she bemire,   
Fixing her neckwear, she would appear smartly dressed,
Lest they think she is an insane woman, obsessed.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
Upon her entering no one would frown,
The grey, respectful, old judges in brown.
They look at her, feeling compassion and pity,
None of them is angry in that weird committee.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
‘What have you done or committed, Agnes?
Dreadful is your sin that brings us such sadness.
By whom you have been indicted and called for trial,
He is got to swing at dawn tomorrow, your very lover.’
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
‘It’s your lover who blames you, the lad who killed your husband,
He’s condemned to the gallows by tomorrow, and that’s the end.
As for you, poor woman, for good you’ll be in prison,
Since it is a miserable crime you’ve hidden.’
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
Agnes would feel dizzy and look around with a face of poker,
Just to convince her mad self she is still completely sober,
She would still hear voices and catch the words they’re saying,
‘Poor woman, until she goes insane, we’re waiting.’
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
What has been said is all so horrible,
She won’t ever return home, incontestable.
So, then she would shed bitter tears,
Unable to control her deadly fears.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
She is sobbing, weeping, bitterly crying,
Her tears like dew on a lily dying,
As if a swan were terribly drowning;
Tears for fears, eye for eye, as they’re saying.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.

‘Your Majesty, Sir Judge of my crime
I’ve got to get home at this time.
My task is too urgent and very busy,
I cannot just sit here in a tizzy.’
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
‘My sheet’s filthy, it’s stained, on the beech-bed, with red blood,
Impossible to wash it, even with bleach-white stream flood.
I must remove that stain anyhow, or disguise;
What do you think I would become otherwise?’
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
The wise men’s eyes met for a point at last,
But no word was said, nor a vote was cast,
‘Go home, you damned woman’- Agnes was asked,
And wash your filthy blood-stained linen fast!’
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
And Agnes steadfastly washes her filthy bedsheet,
In the fresh well-water Agnes sinks her face and feet,
The foamy stream is washing away the crimson-red stains,
Still washing her pile of sheet, Agnes in that state remains.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
However clean the fair white linen is, for the sake of precision,
It still bears that night’s blood-stain in Agnes’ terrible vision.
From daybreak till nightfall, she stands in the shallow water beside her stool,
Her hair-locks fling here and there, with her mind restless, she is but a fool.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
When nights are moonlit, the stars twinkle, and the wind would whistle,
The waves of the river gently stir amongst the thistle,
will always be haunting, uncanny and ghastly, a whitish piece of sheet
and will be flashing from time to time in the faraway land of golden wheat.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
From day to day, year to year, summer and winter
she will ceaselessly keep on washing the linen and splinter,
Her pale face would burn in flames under the hot summer sun,
Her weak knees will make her crouch in winter for what she has done.  
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
Agnes’ ebony hair is no more worn in a bun,
Nor black as that of a raven or the veil of a nun.
Her greyish restless locks are torn by the icy wind
Weary wrinkles would grow heavily on her frail skin.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.
 
And washing her white and snowy pile of sheet,
In the fresh well-water Agnes sinks her feet,
The foamy stream is washing away the crimson-red stains,
Still washing her pile of sheet, Agnes in that state remains.
Ah, Heavenly Father, thy compassion be with me forever.



Uploaded byGyörgy Eszter
Source of the quotationSaját fordítás

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