I think of my old fatherland, My heart is filled with sorrow. The mountains, the trees, our brethren, Is there a promise of tomorrow? The pain and hopelessness have been Destroying our nation. I meet my good friends every year At the remote train station. An elderly couple comes along, I look at their wrinkled faces. All their children and grandchildren Have moved to live in foreign places. They might be a little better off, But they won’t be completely happy. There are no pine trees and mountains In their grey industrial city. This road is leading straight to hell, And if we do not help each other, In the heart of my old fatherland There will be neither child, nor mother. Defend the pine trees, protect the roots, Sing the folk-song, use the mother tongue. Don’t lose heart when a pine tree falls, Plant a new one and encourage everyone. The same story has been repeated over and over again, And we, instead of fighting, silently suffer the pain. But let me tell you something: we will never pine away! The good old Magyar spirit is always here to stay.
Köszönjük a jó Istennek, hogy van egy ilyen Zenakarunk!!🙏🙏
Nagy áldás, hogy vannak nekünk!
Elsírtam magam,köszönöm,😇😇Erdélyi vagyok,szívemből szólt ez a dal!😇🥰Drága nagyszüleim bárcsak hallhatták volna.😇
Tudtok. Nagyon tudtok. Torokszorító.
Áldás Titeket hallgatni! A jó Isten áldjon meg!
Nagyon szép. 🌲🌲🌲💚🙂🖐
Ez az Arcok! Köszönjük!!🙏🏻👍🇭🇺♥️
Szép!!🌲🌲🌲🌲
Nagyon szuper lett gratulálok hozzá további sok sikert kívánok nektek 🤗😊😉
👍👈👈👈
Mi ültetjük a jövőt....
Köszönjük ! Gyógyír a léleknek !
Köszönjük ! Szuper lett💖😇🦋
I think of my old fatherland,
My heart is filled with sorrow.
The mountains, the trees, our brethren,
Is there a promise of tomorrow?
The pain and hopelessness have been
Destroying our nation.
I meet my good friends every year
At the remote train station.
An elderly couple comes along,
I look at their wrinkled faces.
All their children and grandchildren
Have moved to live in foreign places.
They might be a little better off,
But they won’t be completely happy.
There are no pine trees and mountains
In their grey industrial city.
This road is leading straight to hell,
And if we do not help each other,
In the heart of my old fatherland
There will be neither child, nor mother.
Defend the pine trees, protect the roots,
Sing the folk-song, use the mother tongue.
Don’t lose heart when a pine tree falls,
Plant a new one and encourage everyone.
The same story has been repeated over and over again,
And we, instead of fighting, silently suffer the pain.
But let me tell you something: we will never pine away!
The good old Magyar spirit is always here to stay.
🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
1920 J,4 Vesszen Trianon,de örökre!
❤❤❤