A doggerel series
about the countries of the world.
Hungary.
A name which every single kid
Has, early on, so misperceived.
Each thinks it’s “Hungry”—yes, I
did—
Oh, what ignorance I weaved!
It’s had a varied sort of life—
Been occupied by powers that
Did little but increase the strife
Of daily lives. It’s not “old hat,”
This serial of dominance.
Adjustments are required of all—
And in this governmental dance
You watch it flourish, see it fall.
But still the Danube flows along,
And Budapest remains a joy.
The hills and mountains—both belong.
And fertile fields they still employ.
So let us hope that freedom rings
Throughout its troubled countryside,
That each succeeding new year brings
Much hope, success—all justified.
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