Przemysław Gintrowski - Ks. Józef Poniatowski

The last bridge was just blown up
To hell with it! We'll swim across the river!
We ourselves have chosen this fate
And we will not hang out white flags

We've crossed the Vistula and Warta through
So probably now we're truly Poles
Autumn glow has dispersed morning fogs
And the black eagles circle above us

So few of us left here, oh well
There were so many brave ones not so long ago
But today the emperor is losing his battles
And we, as usual, cover the back

Again, thanks to us, the others went ashore
But memory of strangers is usually short
Shed blood, and last year's snow
Have same price in this world


Lift up your eyes, there is no time for lamentation
We need to find a place for the crossing
How many years will be doing it like this
Painting rivers and streams with our blood?

On the walls of Leipzig battle dust has settled
And in old country you can hear an old song
That he who yesterday was a Jacobin
Tomorrow will be the governor of Tsar

And for us boys, the game is far from over
Because the fate remains hidden
And one who endures to the very end, can win
And one who bows today, will loose

Even if they want to call us crazy
They won't take from us what we have lived
Someone, who was free, even a short time
Don't regreat having funeral in Elster