Skip to comments.Katyn 1940 " The last letter" (beautiful song and video clip)
Posted on 08/19/2010 1:26:42 AM PDT by lizol
When listening to the radio couple of days ago I came across this ballad about Katyn massacre, performed by a Polish singer Lech Makowiecki.
I found it absolutely beautiful and so much adequate to the topic. When listening to it I could hardly refrain myself fom crying (such a shame, I'm a grownn up man ;-)
The song is in Polish, but here you have the lyrics in English.
" Katyn 1940. The last letter
I'm jotting a few words for You today,
Although, I know, You won't receive them again,
I'm writing from here to You for the last time,
Goodbye My Love - my time has come.
I still dream the same dreams at nights,
You are the pretty, young lady then,
Son must have grown up - hug him from me,
Now it's even harder to leave,
Now it's even harder to leave.
In the moments like this-you really want to live,
Everything is meaningless, only to be alive,
But the good God gave no choice,
Today I'm standing at the end of my road.
They ordered us to get off the car- it's here,
This birchen forest is my tomb,
I'll just sigh for the last time,
I'll just think for the last time
... I love You ..."
And the video clip
slicznie, dzienkuje za piozenki.
Pawel Kukiz - 17 september (Poland’s not abroad...):
Pole in the hole down below
Polands not abroad, you know.
Another round of vodka.
Before the next round
In the back of the head
And down the pit they go
Body on body in a pile
And Vanya will tread em down
Cos the bulldozers bust.
So pour out another, Grisha,
To Vanya, with Russian cheers
Cos the bulldozers bust,
So many of them still to go,
And were getting sleepy and slow.
Work, work, too much work
The old mans going mad,
And the weathers getting bad,
And weve still so many to do,
My trigger fingers aching,
The guns burning into my hand,
And how many more will they send?
We dont get a moments rest.
Well, whats up Grisha?
Not saying youre sorry for em?
Pole in the hole below
Its only a polish lag.
Let Vanya sprinkle a lil lime
On that last heap,
Limell let the memories off,
Then our consciences will sleep,
And then, the pain to ease
On top theyll plant a grove of trees
The truth will never come out,
And Stalin will decorate each of us.
So many of em still left,
What with the bulldozer bust,
Some still moving down below,
Drink down, Grisha, and lets go.
What better time to bemoan man’s inhumanity to man?
Sadly, it will be repeated, as evil is still afoot and rapidly approaching our very shores.
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