The Soldiers of Westerplatte by Konstanty Ildefons Gałczyński
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.
My translation, inadequate as always:
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.
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.
My translation, inadequate as always:
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
