Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE TISZIAN, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE TISZIAN, by                    
First Line: "from the smiling fields of rakosh, on the market-day of pest"
Last Line: "any, any thing but magyar, and of magyar nothing known"
Subject(s): Hungary


FROM the smiling fields of Rakosh, on the market-day of Pest,
Lo! an Over-Tiszian Chikosh in his snowy bunda drest;
Bunda wearing, bagpipes bearing,
And he seeks the "Three Cups'" Tavern, where they sell of
wine the best.

There they joked the sheep-clad Chikosh, -- asked him if in
Tiszian land
People spoke the Magyar language, and could Magyar understand?
Or if Tiszians spoke like Greeians?
So when they had ceased their laughing, thus he answered out of hand:

"Our Hungarians out of pitchers drink the overflowing wine;
Spice their food with rich paprika, and from ancient platters dine;
Your Hungarians are Barbarians,
And the manners of our fathers, scouted by such sons, decline.

"Your Danubians, not Hungarians, out of tinkling glasses drink,
Eat their roast from latten dishes, pleased to hear their
glasses chink;
Silly traitors! -- while their betters
Think they are but bastard Magyars, though they say not all
they think.

"We have not a Tiszian hostess, -- none! but speaks our Magyar;
Here they prattle out their German, -- pretty patriots they are!
But if German they prefer, man,
Soon would each wine-drinking Magyar fly from their infected bar.

"Priests and preachers midst our Tiszians speak our Magyar
tongue alone;
E'en our Rusniakian papas make the Magyar tongue their own;
Here, Teutonic, or Ratzonic:
Any, any thing but Magyar, -- and of Magyar nothing known."





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