Omnia cantat, omnia ornat.
Poéta vagy 's historicus.
Kazinczi.
Brekeke,
Brekeke, brekeke!
Koax, too-oo!
Brekeke, koax—brekeke, too-oo!
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke,
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke, brekeke;
Koax, koax—too-oo, too-oo;
Brekeke, too-oo!
Brekeke, brekeke!
'Tis the dawn of delight to the sons of the pond;
From its green bed they look to the bright moon beyond.
Brekeke, brekeke,
Koax, too-oo;
Koax, koax—too-oo, too-oo!
The thunderer made us the favorites of Heaven;
'Neath the green-vaulted wave how we thrive and have thriven!
All honor and praise to his wisdom be given.
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke;
Koax, koax—too-oo, too-oo!
In ages departed,
Our home was the sky;
But hot Phœbus darted
His rays from on high;
And then we descended,
And so we are here,
No helper attended,
No helping was near;
The heads of our nation
Look'd up from the wave,
And called for salvation
On him who could save.
He turned away frowning,
And Nemesis cried,
"Jove! doom them to drowning!"
He laugh'd at our pride,
Nor thought of the danger
Of waking our power.
At last his hot anger
Passed quietly o'er;
An epoch of blessings
Soon dawn'd on our race;
And Juno's caressings,
More sweet than before,
O'ershadow'd with glory this beautiful place.
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke;
Koax, koax—too-oo, too-oo!
Our temple is bright as
The temple above;
Its arches as light as
Heaven's arches of love.
Our water's of crystal,
Where shelter'd we dwell;
And the arrows have miss'd all
From Phœœbus that fell.
Poseidon, the brother
Of Jove, is our sire,
Our guardian—no other
We own nor desire;
Each Nereid and Triton
Belongs to our band.
When Sirius shines bright on
The ocean and land,
The Gods spread their curtain
Their favorites to shield;
All danger averting
On fountain and field.
So thanks, cordial thanks, to the thunderer of heaven,
Who pour'd out the waves where we thrive and have thriven;
All honor and praise to his wisdom be given.
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke;
Koax, koax—too-oo, too-oo!
Be still, all ye dwellers
The waters among:
Hark! hark! the excellers
In music and song—
We, taught by Apollo,
Be silent, and hear,
Thou Anadiomene;
Peace, and give ear,
Whales—sturgeons shall follow.
The frogs care not how many
Listeners appear,
If silence respectful be here;
For we in the waters,
Of all their vast throng,
Are melody's daughters,
And heirs of sweet song.
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke,
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke, brekeke;
Koax, koax—too-oo, too-oo;
Koax, too-oo!
When tuning our vesper,
As twilight appears,
The sweet-smiling Hesper
Oft lingers and hears;
And Cynthia, she tarries
To list and admire,
While every fair star is
All jealous desire;
And often we hear them exclaiming, How blest,
In these tranquil green waters to revel and rest!
The reverend Tellus,
She wonders—what power
To such songs can impel us;
On us doth she shower
Her brightness and glory,
The valleys around;
The mountains, though hoary,
Grow young at the sound.
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke, brekeke;
Too-oo—koax, koax—too-oo, too-oo!
There is in the forest
A colorless bird,
Whose song is the poorest
And saddest e'er heard—
Deep, deep in the bushes
The creature is hidden,
Whence oft his noise gushes—
O, why not forbidden!
His voice thrilling o'er us
Confuses our chorus.
The Gods, interfering,
Have punish'd the fool,
And given him a hearing
Of melody's school;
He flies with his riot,
He hurries away,
Leaves heaven to its quiet,
And earth to be gay.
Yes! gay with our music till winter, and then
We bury our voice in sad silence again,
Till the spring breaks anew on the freshness of youth,
And we walk in the spirit of music and truth,
To pour forth our anthems o'er forest and plain.
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke!
The thunderer made us the favorites of heaven,
In the green shallow waters we thrive and have thriven,
All honor and praise to his wisdom be given.
Brekeke, brekeke,
Koax, koax!—Too-oo, too-oo!