Trio Gintrowski Kaczmarski Łapiński - Wigilia na Syberii

A samovar fizzled in the cold silence
I pour the boiling water into the glasses
At the Christmas table, wordlessly
Polish exiles celebrate.
On the walls frosty, damp sediment
Tablecloth streaked with hay
A candle burns with dark flame
In one word- just like home.

"I hear music from Heaven and angelic songs
They praise God that he fits in our stable
Mind doesn't want to comprehend, maybe with an eye it will notice
If it is not just a dream..."

Only there will be no star in the sky
Mushrooms in christmas borscht
There is a steel knife next to black bread
Sugar divided on paper
I put my plate closer, to not to spill
This, with what you sweeten your life.
Another one hid his face in an empty plate
God will be born to us tomorrow.

"King of eternal glory is already born
From handcuffs of slavery he freed his people
Sound merrily, the entire world, bow down to the Master of glory
Because it came true what was to full our hearts with joy."

No, we are not poor nor sad
The tissue in face- it is just a cold.
There won't be noodles with poppy and kutia
There will be bread and tea.
I sit and I don't fit within myself
Looking at my life
We are together- what else can you want?
Tomorrow- the Savior will come.

"Hush little Jesus, my little pearl,
Hush my favourite little delight.
Hush little Jesus, hush, hush
But you, lovely Mother, solace him in tears"

As long as there will be enough candle for the night
To wait for Him- is a long time
In order to, like every year, in the morning
To wish the same to each other
Again he will be born, he'll die in suffering
Again the candle will burn out
In the darkness, freedom in His name
Everyone will promise to each other...