THE COUNTRY...

THE COUNTRY...

There's a place at the intersection of roads,
Where he meets the west east...

Our navel of the world,
Our mediocre paradise...

There's a place.
It's a country.

Over the pastures drawing smoke,
Willows like marys in veiled fog,

This is the roadside cross,
There's a holy grove...

There's a place.
It's a country.

Whosoever here will despair,
Break hands, cry and drink,
This sacred law
She has, no question...

There's a place.
It's a country.
Hope teaches you what to do
They could quit their lives.

To the grave fathers,
To 3rd May...
There's a place.
It's a country.

From generations of toil, from sacrificial blood
The days of triumph will come.
Help God
And endure!

This is where we belong,
This is our country!

Written by Jan Pietrzak