Szécsénykovácsi
We have reaped the wheat of our Lord.
Song
Alas, we have reaped the wheat of our lord; We have drunk his good blessing; We hang our sickles on the nail; Alas, we will not reap this year.
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Rain falls on cabbage leaves
Song
1. Rain falls on the cabbage leaves, ; My lover won't let me in for the evening, ; If he won't let me in, I'll knock on his glass door, ; I'll show him, I'll go to him myself. ; ; 2. My little gray horse jumped out of the bridle, ; My lover pushed me out of bed, ; You see, mother...
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King Matthias died...
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Kálmán Krúdy and Count Zichy
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Jerk's escape from the castle of Kékkői
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