Along with many others, I was happy to hear that there will be a Peace March again on Saturday, June 1, a week before the elections.
It is important that as many people as possible participate in the event, including the younger generations.
Let's involve them in the organization, tell them their ideas and thoughts, because one day they will have to take over the baton.
I would like to recommend a poem to László Csizmadia's attention:
Sándor Petőfi: God's miracle
As long as the star of the story
casts its rays into the multitudes:
The eye
sees everywhere in our own hands a killer aiming at our own hearts,
And how many times has this suicidal hand landed on us!...
It's a miracle of God that our country is still standing.
casts its rays into the multitudes:
The eye
sees everywhere in our own hands a killer aiming at our own hearts,
And how many times has this suicidal hand landed on us!...
It's a miracle of God that our country is still standing.
Thus we bear many centurions' wounds,
Our bosoms could never heal;
He always had to drink poison,
Who poured balm on our wounds.
We come from some evil spirit!
It's a miracle of God that our country is still standing. And while we grind each other for dirty ends,
Our bosoms could never heal;
He always had to drink poison,
Who poured balm on our wounds.
We come from some evil spirit!
It's a miracle of God that our country is still standing. And while we grind each other for dirty ends,
Like the wretched birds on the garbage,
We only noticed that during this time
the lions were breeding here;
The Tatars came, the Turks came to us.
It's a miracle of God that our country is still standing. Sajó flows there... it turns in such a curve,
We only noticed that during this time
the lions were breeding here;
The Tatars came, the Turks came to us.
It's a miracle of God that our country is still standing. Sajó flows there... it turns in such a curve,
Like a man dying in convulsions;
We died there, our blood was there
The giant nightingale, the mogul,
And our corpses were devoured by the flame!
It's a miracle of God that our country is still standing. And there is Mohács... he pressed the king there
We died there, our blood was there
The giant nightingale, the mogul,
And our corpses were devoured by the flame!
It's a miracle of God that our country is still standing. And there is Mohács... he pressed the king there
His armor and his horse were thrown into the mud,
the terrible sword
was prepared for us from the sword of the fallen king from which even now our mouths are burning and bleeding!...
It is a miracle of God that our country is still standing. What will become of us?... this is what I ask,
the terrible sword
was prepared for us from the sword of the fallen king from which even now our mouths are burning and bleeding!...
It is a miracle of God that our country is still standing. What will become of us?... this is what I ask,
But how few people think about it.
Oh my nation, Hungarian people!
life to fate?
Let us not only trust in God as our trust;
Let our country stand on top of our humanity! I recommend Petőfi's poem as part of the program, because it is very timely, but I would add that, unfortunately, we could add a few more verses today: World War I, Trianon Peace Dictate, II. World War 1, 1956, the era after 1989-90 (Hornés and Gyurcsányés).
Oh my nation, Hungarian people!
life to fate?
Let us not only trust in God as our trust;
Let our country stand on top of our humanity! I recommend Petőfi's poem as part of the program, because it is very timely, but I would add that, unfortunately, we could add a few more verses today: World War I, Trianon Peace Dictate, II. World War 1, 1956, the era after 1989-90 (Hornés and Gyurcsányés).
Regards
Balázs Hámory
Cover image: Békemenet
Photo: Péter Mészáros
