Polish Poetry
[Translated by Danuta Romanowska]


 

Holy Mother of Czestochowa

Holy Mother of Czestochowa, dressed in pearls,
All in silver and diamonds,
Whose heavy crown is supported by angels,
Pray for us.

Oh, You, whose picture is seen in every Polish hut,
In the church, in small shops, in magnificent chambers,
In the hand of the dying, above a child's cradle,
Under whose picture, through days and nights
A light shines continually,
In whom everyone believes, even those who believe in nothing,
You, who sees everyone of us through your beautiful eyes.
Holy Mother of Czestochowa, have mercy on us.

Give soldiers who sing, marching in rows,
Coolness and rain in the desert, but fire in the snow.
Let those who are flying be invisible
And may those who are on the sea return to their countries.
May everyone who is wounded find clean dressings
And from everyone who is lost may a letter come.
Take all those who suffer and look in your direction,
Holy Mother of Czestochowa, under your protection.

Let the wires loosen and the bricks burst
And above Poland raise your hand
So the last execution is stopped and the prisons are opened.
Many times the deluge covered us and blood flowed like a river,
But Czestochowa stands like a rock.
You were also wounded by the pagan,
But you continually intercede for us. Most Holy Mother.
If all of us will return to our native country,
We will hear the trumpeter in the Mariacki tower,
LWOW and WILNO will hear the steps of Polish soldiers.
And, as in the golden days of our childhood, we will listen
To the chimes which eternally praise you.
Holy Mother of Czestochowa, do not abandon us.

Jan Lechon


 

 


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