Andrzej Kołakowski: Jest takie miejsce

There is a place at the crossroads of roads,
Where East meets West in silent nods...
Our world’s navel,
Our poor paradise...
There is such a place,
Such a land.

Smoke drifting over pastures wide,
Willows like ghosts in veils of white,
A roadside cross here,
A sacred grove there...
There is such a place,
Such a land.

Whoever wants here to drown in despair,
To wring their hands, drink, cry in the air,
Has every right—
Of that, no doubt...
There is such a place,
Such a land.

They teach us hope, those who gave all,
Their lives cast like dice at freedom’s call,
For fathers’ graves,
For May Third’s stand...
There is such a place,
Such a land.

From generations' toil, from blood so brave,
Shall rise days of glory, triumphant and grave.
Help us, O God,
To endure and strive!
Here is our place,
This is our land!