Hussar Song

Mother! dost weep that thy boy's right hand
Hath taken a sword for his father-land?
Mother! where should the brave one be
But in the ranks of bravery?

Mother I and was it not sad to leave
Mine own sweet maiden alone to grieve?
Julia! where should the brave one be
But in the ranks of bravery?

Mother! if thou in death were laid,
Julia! if thou were a treacherous maid;
O then it were well that the brave should be
In the front ranks of bravery.

Mother! the thought brings heavy tears,
And I look round on my youth's compeers;
They have their griefs and loves like me,
Touching the brave in their bravery.

Mother! my guardian! O be still;
Maiden! let hope thy bosom fill;
Királ and country! how sweet to be
Battling for both in bravery!

Bravery—aye—and victory's hand
Shall wreath my Sákí with golden band—
And in the camp the shout shall be,
O! how he fought for liberty!