
Ez volt ám az ember, ha kellett, a gáton, Nem terem ma párja hetedhét országon; Ha most feltámadna s elj?ne k?zétek, Minden dolgát szemfényvesztésnek hinnétek. Hárman sem birnátok súlyos buzogányát, Parittyak?veit, ?klel? kopjáját; Elhülnétek, látva rettenetes pajzsát, ‘?s, kit a csizmáján viselt, sarkantyúját.’ […] He was brave and fearless, always ready for fight, There’s nobody like him here and there and world-wide; If he would rise from dead and would come to your ranks, You’d believe all his things to be fancies and cranks. Neither three of yours could raise his ponderous mace And his sling-stones and pike and his iron sword-lace; You’d be well dumbfounded looking at his grand shield, ‘And at spurs he had on his boots in battle-field.’ ?
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