There will be a fight (Bakony forest is in mourning)

Bakony forest, in mourning, *) ; Sándor Rózsa is dead. ; ; Still on Sunday afternoon, ; He sat proudly on his horse. ; ; His mother followed him, ; – Sándor, my son, come home. ; ; – I can’t go home, ; I’m covered in blood today. ; ; I also know whose blood it is, ; In the blood of a gendarme. ; ; – My sweet mother, my sweet, ; Do I have a shirt on my bed. ; ; If I don’t have a shirt on my bed, ; Here are two bloody ones. ; ; Put my son down on the bench, ; I’ll wash it by Saturday. ; ; *) every line is repeated from now on