Translation from the book
Z Kresów Wschodnich R.P. Wspomnienia z Osad Wojskowych 1921-1940
(From: The Eastern Borderlands of Poland, Memories of Military Settlements 1921-1940)
Pub: Ognisko Rodzin Osadników Kresowych (OROK) (Association of the Families of the Borderland Settlers)
London, UK. 1992 and 1998
ISBN 1 872286 33 X
EWA OLSZEWSKA (PSZCZÓŁKOWSKA)
When you ask about my descent -
I'm from here since my birth year,
For centuries we have sat this ground
Tis our land, we love it dear.
We’ve lived through war and fire
And so found ourselves poor and bereft.
A hundred years we were enslaved
Good fortune had our country left.
Now the schools for our young people
Tell us to look the world around.
In our hearts and souls we see hope rising,
That from this poverty our land will rebound
And our fertile soil will nourish and grow
All the good things that we will sow.
A new storm has started,
on empty fields a wind is blowing.
Burned out farms and schools lay low,
Everywhere cinders and ashes grow,
The people silenced in wagons lie
To Soviet lagiers to suffer and die.
MIEDZA - Ewa Olszewska (Pszczolkowska)
Did you ever walk a path in the fields
When the rye stalks are in flower?
Felt the softness of the ears
Listening to the larks' song power?
And watched the golden waves
Of grain swaying in the breeze,
The mornings mists leaving dew
Sparkling with pollen carried by bees?
Did you feel the blessings of an azure sky
And tread God’s earth beneath heaven?
And felt thankful as you got fed
That a miracle could be just a crust of bread?
Whatever happens, what good will it do,
A foreign soil, a foreign sea
when my entire soul there was formed
and there remained,
there by my old threshold.
You can travel the lands, you can sail the seas,
but the yearning for home will never cease,
with incredible memories from the past
which your old home evokes
The old beehive ..............