My father-in-law died recently. Among his belongings, my wife found a small booklet, which turned out to be the notebook of her great-grandfather, Lajos Hegedűs (In the recently discovered picture on the right, Lajos Hegedűs and his wife can be seen, well before World War I), in which he wrote down poems in the summer of 1915 as a frontline soldier near the Isonzo River. Here it is.
This little book belongs to Lajos Hegedűs, made on July 7, 1915 at the Görz bridgehead by God's grace. If it gets lost, dear friend, please return it to me or to my family. Their address is:
Mrs. Lajos Hegedűs
Csongrád County, Szentes
Rákóczi Ferenc Street 179and mine is:
Lajos Hegedűs
Field Cannon Regiment No. 23
Battery 5, Field Post Office 320I was born in 1874 in Csongrád County, Szentes.
I am a soldier from 1895.
Dated July 8, 1915. At the Görz bridge and the Isonzo.
Deep in the forest on top of the rocky mountain
so many Italians lose their lives there.
They deserve it because we have many enemies
Hungarian weapons do not spare them.DSo many guns have already fired
At the bridge. So many Italian mothers cry
So many widows, so many children
Cry at home. Some mourn their fathers, some their sweethearts.Dark is the night mourning the dead
Frequently heard oh my God oh
Who will bandage my bleeding wound
It's long till dawn, long till they come for me.The doctor and the priest will come
His finger will bless my dead body
The medics will take me to the
Grave neither my mother nor my
Sweetheart will see me anymore.The city of Görz is in the valley
Surrounded by mountains embracing it
In the middle is the castle with walls
Around it. Italian cannons can't harm it.The Isonzo is a rapid river
Its water is blue like the sea's.
Laurel trees surround it
Mixed with fig trees.
All kinds of things grow there
Figs, laurel, lemon, orange.
But flowers most abundantly.
They need to grow there
They plant them on Hungarian graves.The time will come
When roses will bloom on my grave mound
If someone looks at it
Tears will flow from their eyes.Written on July 9, 1915 in Görz near [Svarom?]
Lajos Hegedűs
The forest roars because the cannons thunder
Whoever hears it looks sadly at the sky
My God how sad life is
I must die here tonight.Let the beautiful sun hide in the shadows
I send my sighs after it
My God will it ever dawn
Will the light of dawn ever shine on me again.The moonlight rises from behind the mountains
My God how sadly it looks at us
The forests roar and hum
Because the cannons split the air.When I go to rest at night
I think of that beautiful family
Who waits for me at home with teary eyes
Dear father, will we ever see you again.July 10, 1915 at the Görz bridgehead
The dawn of the 11th has broken
I don't sleep like the guardian angels
I'm eagerly waiting for the sun to rise
Will a swallow, will a bird come to this region.A bird comes, very very sad
I ask it little bird why are you
So sad it looks back and just
Says you are too oh my God it's right.A swallow comes towards evening black mourning
Is on its back it flies around the dugout
And comes back I look at it.
Chirping sadly it says
Come closer I brought a letter.When I open the letter my hands
Tremble thick tears flow
From my eyes I read it I kiss
The letter oh my God where is my beloved.July 11, 1915 at the Görz bridgehead
My God how the cannons thunder
Grenades and shrapnel fall alike
I would go out to look at the sky my God
Why doesn't this end already.It would be good for me to die now
To rest in eternal sleep under the ground
I wouldn't tremble my heart wouldn't hurt
My grave mound would grow red roses.So many roses so many flowers wither
Some hit by shrapnel some by bullets
But God watches over the orphans
He doesn't take their fathers from them.When twilight comes put your hands in prayer
Sigh once, pray for me
That God may preserve my life
He will listen if you wish it from your heart
Your happiness will be in me forever.Written on July 12, 1915 at the Görz bridgehead amid falling shrapnel and grenades
The fruit of the fig tree ripens
Oh my heart aches for you as long as I live
How could it not hurt when I see the bird
Kissing its mate, finding its way home.There is a round forest on the mountain
It is above the Görz bridge
It covers everything it saves
Our lives below are the masses
we wait for the Italians to come.They dare not come because they fear for their lives
They can only send their cannon balls
Day and night they bombard our position
They come in the evening when nobody sees them.The mail came today as usual
It brought me a letter from my sweetheart
Red letter with black letters
My beloved sent her kiss in it.July 13, 1915 at the Görz bridge on the mountain
Franz Joseph, King of Hungary
He is old now, he cannot go to battle
Though he would still very much like to
If he could lead the camp himself.But we no longer expect this from him
We, his soldiers, do not ask this of him
We fight for him until death
Even if we all fall to the last man.We will show that we are not like
Candles that can be extinguished
We will prove that Hungarians are not cowards
They stand bravely when their homeland requires it.Hungary is a beautiful territory
This is what the enemy wants
If they want it, they can have some
Like the Russians, they will groan from it.Written on July 14, 1915 near the Görz bridgehead in a small house.
The dawn of the 15th was cloudy because
The smoke of the Italian cannons painted it
Black. Its lightning was visible in the darkness
Poor soldiers have to suffer so much.Towards evening its fruit ripened
Hungarian cannons spoke at once
They go hiding through the valleys
The Italian cries if he hears them.Around midnight the rockets fly
Pitch darkness replaces the night.
Every man goes to rest
Only the cannonball booms.July 15, 1915
At the Görz bridge up on the mountain in a small house
Lajos Hegedűs
The night of the quiet night is dark
My God how long until the hour of freedom strikes.
Millions of lips have long sighed for it
Is my time coming to an end.There is a big cloud on the sea
The wind drives it upward
A guardian angel comes up with it
Who protects us here.Here is the storm, the sky thunders
Water flows in the dugout
We walk in it, we sleep in it
Yet we do not fear the Italian.It's towards dawn
The bullet goes from the cannon
It roars like a bull
The Italian runs away like a dog.July 16, 1915 near Ivarom in the middle of a beautiful flower garden
What a beautiful forest what a beautiful mountain
Covers us far away
God do not take away the trees
On them the branches and on those the leaves.It's raining pouring
I have no cover my little angel
My mattress is small pebbles
My cover is broken tree branch.The breeze blows the bullet hums
My heart aches my little little angel
It will heal when I die
My grave mound will be near Görz.There will be no great ornament on the grave mound
My cross will be rosemary
Next to it will be six pansies
In front of me will be a mourning rose.July 20, 1915 in the city of Görz
Let the wing of a white dove send a kiss
I know seven little mouths eagerly await your coming.
Six little family mouths and the precious red mouth of the mother
They tremble like dew on a flower
Kiss, be the pillar bridge over which it passes
Connect the colorful rainbow of our hearts
On the colorful rainbow, ringing tales go
They chime softly to six little children.Chiming silence silence sleep nicely
Your father keeps watch in the black midnight in Görz
Weapon in his hand a hundred dangers lurk for him
Protect him my God in every danger.
Your mother's careful hand tends to you
In Görz the cannons flash God's hand protects
Stormy clouds are his homeland.Oh don't rain anymore they will catch cold
Grenade, unfold your red fire-eyed flower
Storm, do not wake them, do not frighten their sleep
I would put them to sleep in my arms too.July 21, 1915 in the Görz firing position
Lajos Hegedűs
Chiming silence silence oh don't hear it
The horn blares the drum beats now your father goes
In the depths of bayonet forests sneaky death waits
Its swishing scythe lays down red rows.Silence just sleep nicely
Golden fish swim in the middle of a big lake
The Frog King sits on his throne his crystal palace
Its tower made of shells, his crown of pearls.
There is no ugly death there are no cannons
The frog warriors' clothes are made of reeds.Fairy maidens hurry with kisses
The blood of the falling one does not gush
His chest does not groan his wail is not heard
He accepts death on the bloody field silently
As the ancients have said for thousands of years
We lie down quietly in the middle of a great meadow
Around us far away poppies bloom
How beautiful how good it is here for the dead.July 22, 1915 near Görz in the firing position
Sleep sleep my dear beautiful family
Your father keeps watch on dark nights
He guards your dreams, carefully watches over you
Your dear good father is your soldier here too.Look at the sky how the clouds rush
Camp fires burn their flames are ruffled
The flames shine God is angry
His bloody sword swishes sharply honed
And there where far away the precipice of heaven
The blood of many Italians pours onto the earth
The cannonball goes through a ray-girdled path in the sky
Hussars with spurs on white steeds.And each leads another steed too
They reach the meadow the army disperses
They sheathe their long bloody swords
They see the dead lying on the grass bed
Whom either sword or bullet found
Or the cannonball laid down behold they awaken
And mount their saddles and gallop back,
On the secret path of the night sky.July 23, 1915 in the Görz firing position
At 2 o'clock in the afternoon
The homeland calls you are a Hungarian boy I brought you to the battlefield
Your bud soul must wither here
May the death of hemlock shine on you
Like bleeding men's hearts they drive
Your ear thus in sad, the echo of lips
The crying of bullets, the deep humming of cannons
See how they plaster the future with blood-soaked mud
So that those who come may live their lives merrily
See we play all we have on deceitful dice
So that the great life may be yours
Receiving death and distributing sad fate
Our blood sprouts on the sharp weapon
Because we do not want our shoulders to be broken by a yoke
For those who because of us life
We close servitude with our lives
And those who are born hereafter live
A new world.July 24, 1915 near Görz
in the firing position
Lajos Hegedűs
Here everything is fluid so fluid so vibrating
And everything is so uncertain
The mirrored ripple of the vault shakes
Like the leaden cannon and the great river sways.The heron bird sways under it
Like a slender boat on fresh foam
The sonorous lips of the motor hum
It performs great wonders under the mountain.Wonders below me wonders above me
Around me everything is so wonderful
Even the clod rose and spread wings
So that poor dead may rest under it.Down beautifully down even deeper
There lived whose blood has already fallen into the dust
Still here with me who lives strives towards the sky
We fly we fly under the sky like the heron bird.July 25, 1915 in the Görz bridge firing position 3:25 p.m.
The night dawns the secrets are revealed
On the peaks of high mountains metal shines everywhere
The clouds cover the dead here too
We await the victorious good day.The kingdom of heaven God is its king
Divert the cannonballs from us
Spread darkness over the bright sun
Let every blade of grass go to rest.It lightens in the darkness through the clouds
With whistling death the guardian angel too
Saves our lives God's [right hand?]
Let your lips rise in prayer.In the green bush a dark figure is seen
A fig tree covers it so it cannot be seen
His blood flowed into the dust on his homeland's soil
The kingdom of heaven stands open before him.July 26, 1915 in the Görz firing position by God's grace
written by Lajos Hegedűs
It's been a year today since I left home
How I would like not to be here anymore
Oh how I would like to go go
With those who are dying here now.How many fall disappear under the ground
But I could go as their escort travel companion
Going beyond the earth here they fall
Perish vanish die swim fly
Gallop quietly some of us are already beyond
This world oh men
Sons lads where are you wait
I will reach you there in the other world so my heart pulls
After you on the grass of the other world
To rejoice where everything waits and everything [in vdotban?]
Where everything is beautiful and everything is good and rings sounds
The true life and the golden lambs make way
And there on the road waits whom I adore flower
Under clouds in the shadow opens
Her arms with angel love between kiss and
Cry I find her closed to my happy heart
I find my family.July 28, 1915 at the Görz bridgehead
Lajos Hegedűs
Dark is the night through this mourning veil
You cannot see the golden ray of the sun
Yet the breaking dawn is already near
It spreads across the sky with bright radiance
But your night is not followed by morning
You can only feel the sun with your hand
Oh but let no one mourn this great loss
Let everyone know that this is for the homeland.Your heart does not rejoice in proud rose color
Your eyes do not rest on lily white
In vain is the green of forest and field beautiful to others
Since you cannot grasp it with outstretched hands
But nature is not closed to you
Your soul is renewed in the scent of flowers
Oh so let no one mourn the loss
This had to be so for the homeland.You will never see your children's faces again
Your soul aches when you think back on it
That tiny drop, that smallest one
A new guest in the house you never embraced
Before your eyes you saw the small smiling face
Let no one mourn the painful loss
For the homeland one can even die.Your sweet little mate, dear wife
Includes your name in her [end of?] evening prayer
On long winter days in front of the small window
During diligent work she waits for your return
And though you cannot see the industrious two hands
But you feel her warm embrace on your chest
So let no one mourn the loss
For the homeland one should be able to die..Not all is lost if your eyes are lost
For your hands, accustomed to battle, have become more refined
With feeling fingers work proceeds merrily
And what you earn with it is not like alms.
Perhaps the bread will be scarcer henceforth
But it tastes better than what you earned on the battlefield
Oh let no one mourn the loss
This had to be so for the homeland.August 21, 1915 in the firing position
Near the city of Görz Lajos Hegedűs
Someone dwells up there in heaven
Who does not abandon you in trouble and suffering
Who counts the tears on your face
Takes your struggling soul into his grace
And what fierce hatred has robbed from you
Heaven returns differently a hundredfold
Let no one mourn any loss
For the homeland one should be able to die.Do not accuse God in thought or word
Bear the cross patiently without a word
Lest with the curse you lose the Lord
And reproachful consciousness torments your soul
Do not let your soul fall to the dust
Let the strong wing of faith lift you to God
And now let no one mourn the loss
Learn to suffer quietly for our homeland.August 21, 1915 in the
Görz firing position at the
bridgehead
Lajos Hegedűs
Light boat on rocking water
carries nine pale warriors
carries nine grim warriors.In their eyes burns the war
dark flame, tired gloom
a wreath from suffering.They are watched by small and large
and soft sighs arise around them
Many eyes sparkle with wandering tears.Flowery colorful gentry
All healthy all beautiful
Joy follows in the footsteps of worry.Colorful frills of waves rock
Blue shores' flowers beckon
All forget the sad heroes.Only one small little boy
With a paper shako on his head
Still hangs on the warriors' eyes.With his toy sword at his side
He takes himself and stands before them
And salutes very proudly.August 21, 1915 Lajos Hegedűs
The heroes' hearts tremble
They take the child in their arms
Our little Hungarian, heaven be with you.Grow up big you tiny lad
Blood is flowing now for you
Your smile is worth treasures.And light boat rocks on the water
Carries nine red warriors
Carries nine cheerful warriors.The End
The sky is cloudy dark is the night
My dear sweetheart you are so far from me
On long nights long days my heart aches
Come closer if you can heal my heart.I would go if I could be a bird
In the dark night the enemy would not see me
In your window I would recite my poem
Come out then my dear mate if you love me.August 22, 1915 in the Görz
firing position Lajos Hegedűs
