Vengriya davlat madhiyasi

"Milliy madhiya" (vengriya talaffuzi: [ˈhɪmnʊs]; lit. „Himn“ yoki „Gimna“) — Vengriya milliy madhiyasi. Qoʻshiq matni 1823-yilda taniqli shoir Ferens Kölcsey tomonidan yozilgan va uning rasmiy musiqasi 1844-yilda romantik bastakor Ferenc Erkel tomonidan yaratilgan.

„Himnusz“ qoʻshigʻi soʻzlari Isten, áldd meg a magyart (tinglang (yordam · maʼlumot)) soʻzlari bilan boshlanadigan ibodat (inglizcha: „Xudo, vengerlarga baraka ber“) maʼnosini beradi.

 Sarlavha 
Asl qoʻlyozmadagi sarlavha „Himnus“ — lotincha soʻz boʻlib, „madhiya qoʻshigʻi“ degan maʼnoni anglatadi va ingliz tilidan boshqa tillarda masalan, fransuz yoki nemis tilida ham „madhiya“ maʼnosida keng qoʻllanadi.

 Matn 

Venger tilidaIPA transkripsiyasiInglizcha tarjimaIngliz tiliga sheʼriy tarjimaI
O God, bless the nation of Hungary
With your grace and bounty
Extend over it your guarding arm
During strife with its enemies
Long torn by ill fate
Bring upon it a time of relief
This nation has suffered for all sins
Of the past and of the future!

II
You brought our ancestors up
Over the Carpathians' holy peaks
By You was won a beautiful homeland
For Bendeguz’s sons
And wherever flow the rivers of
The Tisza and the Danube
Árpád our heroʻs descendants
Will root and bloom.

III
For us on the plains of the Kuns
You ripened the wheat
In the grape fields of Tokaj
You dripped sweet nectar
Our flag you often planted
On the wild Turk’s earthworks
And under Mátyás' grave army whimpered
Vienna's „proud fort.“

IV
Ah, but for our sins
Anger gathered in Your bosom
And You struck with Your lightning
From Your thundering clouds
Now the plundering Mongols' arrows
You swarmed over us
Then the Turks' slave yoke
We took upon our shoulders.

V
How often came from the mouths
Of Osmanʼs barbarian nation
Over the corpses of our defeated army
A victory song!
How often did your own son aggress
My homeland, upon your breast,
And you became because of your own sons
Your own sons' funeral urn!

VI
The fugitive hid, and towards him
The sword reached into his cave
Looking everywhere he could not find
His home in his homeland
Climbs the mountain, descends the valley
Sadness and despair his companions
Sea of blood beneath his feet
Ocean of flame above.

VII
Castle stood, now a heap of stones
Happiness and joy fluttered,
Groans of death, weeping
Now sound in their place.
And Ah! Freedom does not bloom
From the blood of the dead,
Torturous slavery’s tears fall
From the burning eyes of the orphans!

VIII
Pity, O Lord, the Hungarians
Who are tossed by waves of danger
Extend over it your guarding arm
On the sea of its misery
Long torn by ill fate
Bring upon it a time of relief
They who have suffered for all sins
Of the past and of the future!I
O, my God, the Magyar bless
With Thy plenty and good cheer!
With Thine aid his just cause press,
Where his foes to fight appear.
Fate, who for so long did’st frown,
Bring him happy times and ways;
Atoning sorrow hath weighed down
Sins of past and future days.

II
By Thy help our fathers gained
Kárpátʼs proud and sacred height;
Here by Thee a home obtained
Heirs of Bendegúz, the knight.
Whereʼer Danubeʼs waters flow
And the streams of Tisza swell
Árpád’s children, Thou dost know,
Flourished and did prosper well.

III
For us let the golden grain
Grow upon the fields of Kún,
And let nectar’s silver rain
Ripen grapes of Tokay soon.
Thou our flags hast planted oʻer
Forts where once wild Turks held sway;
Proud Vienna suffered sore
From King Mátyás' dark array.

IV
But, alas! for our misdeed,
Anger rose within Thy breast,
And Thy lightnings Thou did’st speed
From Thy thundering sky with zest.
Now the Mongol arrow flew
Over our devoted heads;
Or the Turkish yoke we knew,
Which a free-born nation dreads.

V
O, how often has the voice
Sounded of wild Osmanʼs hordes,
When in songs they did rejoice
Oʻer our heroes' captured swords!
Yea, how often rose Thy sons,
My fair land, upon Thy sod,
And Thou gavest to these sons,
Tombs within the breast they trod!

VI
Though in caves pursued he lie,
Even then he fears attacks.
Coming forth the land to spy,
Even a home he finds he lacks.
Mountain, vale — go where he would,
Grief and sorrow all the same -
Underneath a sea of blood,
While above a sea of flame.

VII
'Neath the fort, a ruin now,
Joy and pleasure erst were found,
Only groans and sighs, I trow,
In its limits now abound.
But no freedom’s flowers return
From the spilt blood of the dead,
And the tears of slavery burn,
Which the eyes of orphans shed.

VIII
Pity, God, the Magyar, then,
Long by waves of danger tossed;
Help him by Thy strong hand when
He on grief’s sea may be lost.
Fate, who for so long did’st frown,
Bring him happy times and ways;
Atoning sorrow hath weighed down
All the sins of all his days.

 Manbalar 

 Havolalar 
 Hungary: Himnusz — Audio of the national anthem of Hungary, with information and lyrics (archive link)
 National and historical symbols of Hungary  has a page about the anthem, featuring a vocal sound file.
 Sheet Music is available at the Hungarian Electronic Library website.
 Hungarian Anthem on Music Keyboard 2.4
Turkum:Vengriya
Turkum:Madhiyalar