When their days had been filled
and it was time to die in the summer,
They went straight to heaven in a coach-and-four,
the soldiers of Westerplatte.
(Summer was beautiful that year.)
They sang: "Ah, ‘tis nothing
that our wounds were so painful,
for now it is sweet to walk
the heavenly fields."
(On earth that year there was plenty of heather for bouquets.)
In Gdansk we stood like a wall
in defiance of the German offensive,
now we soar among the clouds,
we soldiers of Westerplatte.
Those with keen sense of sight
and sound are said to have heard
in the clouds the measured step
of the Maratime Batallion.
This was the song they heard: "We'll
take advantage of the sunshine
and bask in the warm days
in the heather fields of paradise.
But when the cold wind blows
and sorrow courses the earth,
We'll float down to the center of Warsaw,
The soldiers of Westerplatte."