Bzura

September burning through the night, Steel and fire, the endless fight, Poznań marching side by side, Pomorze standing full of pride. Kutrzeba raised his hand to the sky, “Hold the line — we do not die!” By the river, guns awake, For our homeland, stand and break! Smoke and thunder fill the air, White Eagle rising everywhere! BZURA! The last great counterstrike! BZURA! Into the steel, into the fight! Though the darkness closed around, Polish courage held the ground! BZURA! Till the final battle sound! Fields were shaking under flame, Luftwaffe screaming death and pain, Bayonets shining in the rain, Every mile was bought with pain. Sochaczew and Kampinos, Where the fate of Poland rose, Surrounded by the iron tide, Still the soldiers would not hide! No surrender, no retreat, Even under crushing defeat, History echoes with their cry: “Poland’s spirit will never die!” BZURA! The greatest battle of September! BZURA! A flame the world remembers! Though the walls of Warsaw fell, Their legend broke the gates of hell! BZURA! Hear the Polish battle yell!