On the occasion of the coming anniversary of the outbreak of the large independency movement, the 1863 Uprising, we print in respective parts poesy created during the uprising, earlier works, but popular among its participants, and created for the glory of heroes - after the fall of the uprising. Most were performed in song form.
The subsequent anniversary of the outbreak was celebrated solemnly, though unofficially, during the period of partitions and especially uplifted - after regaining independence, in the Second Republic of Poland. They have always been large patriotic manifestations of the Polish Nation.
Insurrection motifs have inspired artists - poets, writers and painters for many decades.
Insurgent March
Vladimir Wolski
To fathers, brothers, whited bones
In Siberia snows, in the Caucasus rocks,
Sisters, wives and mothers of our tears are hot,
The enemy spits shame in their surviving eyes.
For the tribes wasted years,
They were poisoned with thought and hello,
To an evil yoke, to the planet
Yelling and sleeping, they could have endured so far.
Fight, Poles, fight!
Freedom of Spirit — It is God’s sword.
Fight, fight! A villain,
Like a frightened animal, go away.
For the martyrs of our bloody cries,
The deafly reflected prison shop,
The exiles of our suffering wanderers,
They're bitter, due to the fact that bread is taken from the hands of strangers.
To the sly laws of ancestral pride,
erstwhile the people and the work dishonored the law of the Tsar,
Like the cattle said to smudge, due to the fact that these crowds
Not yet, according to Czarski penalties.
For the fight, for the Poles, for the holy fight, etc.
To the vile men with the enemy's collusion,
From Targowice to our years,
To the game of hell, to which the village people
In the torturers, he was vain to replace the executioner.
To the desecrated churches of the Gentiles,
For the humiliation of the religion of our servants,
The towns and villages of so many smoke ashes,
erstwhile the enemy laughed wildly at their ashes.
For the fight, for the Poles, for the holy fight, etc.
To the slaughter of the helpless, kneeling in the streets,
With prayer yet for his oppressors;
For the noble ones, the gallows,
Like villains, their bodies twitch!
To the heroes who were shot,
erstwhile the enemy mocked them, the torturer poisoned them
A sacrifice, like a mother's tear, unblemished,
Half-lived then buried down.
For fighting, Poles, for holy fighting, etc.
For the groans of the wounded, slow struck,
Before them, the soldat of clothing with the flesh,
For the torment of the wounded, the straw wrapped,
Which the man-eater slow baked.
For begging as much as sick and old
They were begging from the bed, and the execution struck them,
To dead virgins, with blood dried on their faces:
Traces of dirty bites hulking hordes.
For battle, Poles! etc.
For these blood cures, I will not wipe them off,
Of them in the nation eternal bloody tears,
To the ground, water, fire and air,
To live the right that everyone has.
To honor the minute erstwhile a brave nation
He woke up, felt like he was dreaming besides long —
And that he should fight immortally
In the eternal enemies of his to wash the blood.
For battle, Poles! etc.
For freedom, for the sole purpose,
You of the cities, of the crafts, which you go before,
Youth Poland, Polish Israel,
To the huts, to the people, wake the country folk!
He will believe you, for you are brotherly in him.
Honor work, simple heart, blood —
And with the people young Polish hero,
You're gonna smoke your enemies like a pile of chaff.
For battle, Poles! etc.
For all the torments of Poland, the torments of Lithuania,
On behalf of all our Rusi torment,
To battle, brothers, to enduring battle!
I will win if I don't lower my hands.
White eagle and pursuit with an angel,
The irradiated must lift his flight;
Hi, you know how to fight the people!
The full Nation will say hello to them.
For battle, Poles! etc.
March, Polonia march
Author unknown
Scattered around the world, driven into alien wars.
We've gathered together, in 1 armed circle.
March, march of Polonia,
Our brave nation,
We'll remainder after our work,
In the homestead.
March, march of Polonia,
Our brave nation,
We'll remainder after our work,
In the homestead.
In the spring our trumpet will sound, they will cut horses.
The fame of the Polish dog doctor will be our weapons.
March, march of Polonia,
Our brave nation,
We'll remainder after our work,
In the homestead.
March, march of Polonia,
Our brave nation,
We'll remainder after our work,
In the homestead.
I'll pass Lithuania, I'll pass Volyn, I'll pass in Kiev,
In winter with Hungarian wine, we will stand in Krakow.
March, march of Polonia,
Our brave nation,
We'll remainder after our work,
In the homestead.
March, march of Polonia,
Our brave nation,
We'll remainder after our work,
In the homestead.
From Krakow on the beaten road, I will return to Warsaw,
What's left of the enemy, I'll put it on my head in the Vistula.
March, march of Polonia,
Our brave nation,
We'll remainder after our work,
In the homestead.
March, march of Polonia,
Our brave nation,
We'll remainder after our work,
In the homestead.
Reproduction - Maximilian Gierymski: Insurrection Patrol (1873)
