The Soldiers of Westerplatte by Konstanty Ildefons Gałczyński

The Soldiers of Westerplatte by Konstanty Ildefons Gałczyński

I had intended to repost this on the 1st September, as the sirens sounded here, but I was too angry. My translation is prosaic, but so is the original. The poetry is in the events.

The first battle of the Second World War took place at Westerplatte, near Gdańsk, September the first, 1939, and this poem commemorates the Polish soldiers who died (some were murdered by the Germans after capture) defending their country from barbarism.

They are in my prayers.

A Song About the Soldiers at Westerplatte

When their days had been fulfilled

And it was time to die with the summer

Straight to heaven, four by four,

Went the soldiers of Westerplatte

And the summer was beautiful that year.

And so they sang – Ah it’s nothing

That the wounds hurt so

For how sweet now to walk

In heavenly glades.

And on the ground that year, there was so much heather for bouquets.

At Gdańsk we stood just like a wall

Whistled at the Swabian cannon

Now we rise amongst the clouds

The soldiers of Westerplatte

And those who have good eyesight

And hearing are said to hear

How in Heaven, rumbles the steady tread

Of the coastal battalion.

But when the cold wind blows

And sorrow wraps the world

In the centre of Warsaw we will pour down,

The soldiers of Westerplatte.

Ruins of Westerplatte Barracks. Photo: Wikipedia