Hungary and Falsification of History...

Falsification of History, Loss of Trust: Hungary's Holocaust Year

George Szirtes

Excerpt:

Auschwitz Concentration Camp: Arrival of Jews Summer 1944

Photo Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-NO827-318/CC-BY-SA

Refusing to be associated with the government and its attempts to rewrite and falsify history on the occasion of Holocaust memorial Year in Hungary, some individuals, and some Jewish organisations have decided to return grants and other distinctions....Read more...

 [I dedicate this post to Margaret of Hungary who saved me. I promised you on your death bed, dear soul,whose violin music continues...]

And so will I wonder...?
I lived, but then in living I was feeble in life and
always knew that they would bury me here in the end,
that year piles upon year, clod on clod, stone on stone,
that the body swells and in the cool, maggot-
infested darkness, the naked bone will shiver.
That above, scuttling time is rummaging through my poems
and that I will sink deeper into the ground.
All this I knew. But tell me, the work—did that live on?
—Miklós Radnóti, Smajd igy tűnődöm...?, translated by Gina Gönczi

                                 

     Hypertexts

...Also in 1937 he wrote his Cartes Postales (Postcards from France), which were precurors to his darker images of war, Razglednicas (Picture Postcards). During World War II, Radnóti published translations of Virgil, Rimbaud, Mallarmé, Eluard, Apollinare and Blaise Cendras in Orpheus nyomában. From 1940 on, he was forced to serve on forced labor battalions, at times arming and disarming explosives on the Ukrainian front. In 1944 he was deported to a compulsory labor camp near Bor, Yugoslavia. As the Nazis retreated from the approaching Russian army, the Bor concentration camp was evacuated and its internees were led on a forced march through Yugoslavia and Hungary. 

During what became his death march, Radnóti recorded poetic images of what he saw and experienced. After writing his fourth and final "Postcard," Radnóti was badly beaten by a soldier annoyed by his scribblings. Soon thereafter, the weakened poet was shot to death, on November 9, 1944, along with 21 other prisoners who unable to walk. Their mass grave was exhumed after the war and Radnóti's poems were found on his body by his wife, inscribed in pencil in a small Serbian exercise book. Radnóti's posthumous collection, Tajtékos ég (Clouded Sky, or Foaming Sky) contains odes to his wife, letters, poetic fragments and his final Postcards. Unlike his murderers, Miklós Radnóti never lost his humanity, and his empathy continues to live on and shine through his work...

                      (c)Ruth Mower, We Are One

Lines from "Eclogue VII"
Without commas, one line touching the other
I write poems the way I live, in darkness,
blind, crossing the paper like a worm.
Flashlights, books — the guards took everything.
There's no mail, only fog drifts over the barracks.
—translated by Steven Polgár

~The Hypertexts

Dear Margaret, I can never repay you...This is for you on Valentine's Day...

Following his appointment in 1835 to principal conductor of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra,[6] Mendelssohn named his childhood friend Ferdinand David as the orchestra's concertmaster.[7] The work's origins derive from this professional collaboration. In a letter dated 30 July 1838, Mendelssohn wrote to David: "I should like to write a violin concerto for you next winter. One in E minor runs through my head, the beginning of which gives me no peace."[8] The concerto took another six years to complete. There are many possible reasons for the delay, including self-doubt,[9] his third symphony[10] and an unhappy period in Berlin... ~Wikipedia
And...RIP...remember:

Murdered Hungarian Jewish Composers/Musicians

Pál Budai

Jenő Deutsch

Zoltán Kodály

György Justus

Sándor Kuti

Walter Lajthai-Lazarus

Sándor Vándor

László Weiner