Aleksandra Szymanska


Commemorating... - Poem by Aleksandra Szymanska

[*] [*] [*] Katyń [*] [*] [*]

Oh, Soldier, betrayed, disgraced!
Your weapon had been taken by the guile side.
Your valour, bravery, nobility,
like your hands, with a string had been tied…

You did not have to die in shame,
but from bullets on glory's battlefield,
defending your country's freedom
like an eagle with a valiant shield…

You did not have to wait in custody
when your heart so loud was screaming
that innocent blood ought to be revenged
in fight for all that hadn't lost its meaning…

Your death by foreign ground covered,
which for you had been shedding bitter tears,
had become forbidden truth's seed
and in its shadow outlived long years…

In vain thrived the dance upon your grave,
in vain grew the forest's blind.
Your skull so bestially shot
the naked truth's arms did find…

And the memory about you, Soldier,
has been carved by the pen of eternity,
in hearts of those who know that you are
the symbol of stolen freedom & dignity…

[*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*]

Żołnierzu, oszukany, zhańbiony!
Tobie broń podstępem zabrano,
Twą odwagę, męstwo, szlachetność,
jak Twe ręce sznurem spętano...

Tyś nie musiał zginąć tak podle,
lecz od kul na polu chwały,
broniąc kraju swego wolności
jako orzeł waleczny, wspaniały...

Tyś nie musiał czekać w niewoli
gdy Twe serce tak głoś no krzyczało,
że niewinnych krew miałeś pomścić
walcząc o to, co wciąż ocalało...

Twa śmierć obcą ziemią pokryta,
co nad Tobą tak gorzko płakała
była ziarnem zakazanej prawdy
i w jej cieniu pół wieku wytrwała...

Na nic tańce na Twym grobie,
na nic zdała się leśna zasłona.
Twą haniebnie przestrzeloną czaszkę
wyłoniły nagiej prawdy ramiona.

I pamięć o Tobie Żołnierzu
jest wyryta piórem wieczności,
w sercach tych, dla których jesteś
symbolem skradzionej wolności...

[*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*] [*]

Quiet prayer...

I have lit more than twenty thousands of white candles,
let them burn in silence among woodland's cries…
Let their wax melt in peace, turning red
like the blood of those who had to die…

Oh white candles, be the guards of the shattered peace.
Oh red rivers of the wax, be the mute memory…
And the tongues of the flames, oh please quietly speak
of the days of strength, honour and glory…

Topic(s) of this poem: tribute


Comments about Commemorating... by Aleksandra Szymanska

This member does not wish to get comments on his/her poem(s).



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags


Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Poem Edited: Thursday, March 5, 2015


[Report Error]