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Nikt nam nie zrobił nic, czyli opowie​ś​ć o tym, jak Polska w roku 1940 wesp​ó​ł z Anglią i Francją rozgromi​ł​a Rzeszę Niemiecką i sta​ł​a się hegemonem Europy Środkowej

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1.
Nobody Did Us Any Harm by Ziemowit Szczerek On the derelict Ruinenwert Of the thousand-year-old Third Reich Endless are the borders The lucence darkens, fire freezes Endless are the borders Of the newborn Poland Inborn, overborn Once again reborn Nobody did us any harm Rydz stands on pedestal The saviour paroudes, check-mate! Lead us, oh Commander, into the world! Strong, loaded and ready! The cardboard tanks will be useless When Hitler sends them on us They will get soaked in the rivers England and France will aid us God help us! But even if they do not support us We will stand against the enemies alone Look, on the Reichstag the Polish flag is hanging and the broken cross Called Hakenkreuz Which represents the sun Is chipped down from the ministry’s facade And the Polish boots are treading on it Rugia is blooming with the mothertongue The Proto-Slavic word is flourishing On the radio in Warsaw, almost every moment they broadcast the news Our bombers, our bombers are over Berlin! Berlin was collapsing, Reichstag was on fire, the British and the French assisted No one did as any harm – the fascist Fritz fell on his face! Rydz is trembling, Kraut is beating him up On the river borders he waits When the day breaks the brawny tanks Will take revenge on Jerry’s ass translated by Mateusz Nowicki
2.
Luxtorpeda 04:03
Luxtorpeda by Ziemowit Szczerek Running, dashing Luxtorpeda Want and misery around Poverty surrounds the train But it is lavishing inside Ticket costs forty zloty Count it, if you’re still sane Two weeks of hard labour Just to move your bottom in the cart Running, dashing Luxtorpeda Want and misery around Poverty surrounds the train But it is lavishing inside Do not eat, do not drink, keep saving Lose weight, do not sleep, keep earning And there is nothing to pay the rent To lose yourself in the lux-rush Lords and officers are onboard So are sanators and bankers What delightful manners they have Those railway cavalrymen! They give their seats to the ladies They kiss the countesses’ hands It smells of good tobacco there Hands smell of a good lotion Luxtorpeda cuts through Poland Through Mazovia and Lesser Poland Through the fields, between the willows, Weeping over the furrows And over those furrows the peasants are plowing With Godspeed they watch how Luxtorpeda is running, dashing And inside the train - priests, heaven-like With the pink cheeks Next to the bankers’ ladies Only sometimes, hey and opa! The train runs over a yokel Guts are scattered The party look at them disgusted Though from their own guts they toss To Riga their lux-oysters From their lordly bowels, bingo bango, They produce Warsaw-style tripe The priest is mad, half a day wasted To put the corpse together A peasant’s corpse with its peasant fate Cannot afford a vacation in heaven Lord’s grace has saved him But has not insured him To support his wife and children So he is holding his guts together To get hired as a porter And carry the party’s luggage Running, dashing Luxtorpeda Want and misery around
3.
We Did Not Want The War by Jakub Lewicki, Andrzej Zagajewski and Mateusz Nowicki The obscure and empty palaces of Annopol We fought only not to get impoverished A threshing floor, straw mattresses in the shacks When the country calls, leave everything behind, stand up to defend lords’ homes! We didn't want war, it came to us We survived the war hiding in the trenches We didn't want war, but it came for us We didn't want to be hungry, but the hunger overwhelmed us Marshal Rydz shouted: "The enemies will soon be repelled!" We crossed the San and Narew, the Vistula and the Warta Nobody asked us what about the areas given up to Krauts April’s here, desolated ground, we ought to eat dogs and horses! Not bombs, not missiles Not tanks, not blitzkrieg Not the infantry soldiers Not ships, not planes Only hunger and plague will lead us to the grave We didn't want war, it came to us We survived the war hiding in the trenches We didn't want war, but it came for us Poverty and scarcity - will get us tomorrow.
4.
Hiperbereza 02:54
Hyperbereza by Ziemowit Szczerek Hey, somewhere in Belarus The executioner sits down to his torture And performs it accurately He breaks the joints, he breaks the bones Kartuzy shone here out of boredom Today the time is not running so slow They’re tearing our nailsout They don't even let us shit! Hey, hey, hey in Bereza*! We live on water-bread For those who offend the leader Rydz The jailer has a special taunt We, political prisoners We live here idyllically Manicures, pedicures Together with leather tanning Nobody will ask for us Because if you do - remember If our fate bothers you You will land here among us! *Polish: Miejsce Odosobnienia w Berezie Kartuskiej, literally "Place of Isolation at Bereza Kartuska"
5.
W tramwaju 02:23
On The Tram by Józef Wittlin (1896-1976) All the neighbours on the tram Immersed in the same newspapers. Let's look at their faces: They all look Like born criminals Through cold eyes to all brains All bad news is creeping in All the people, all the souls, swallow up the same grime Everyone is happy, That someone was murdered That someone was arrested Everyone is happy, That someone was murdered That someone was arrested That someone was kidnapped That someone was tortured That someone was questioned That someone was shot Everyone is happy, That somebody - not them Will get hanged tomorrow
6.
To The Holy Father Pius XI by Edward Szymański ...And the Scriptures speak of Christ the Lord, that he walked barefoot through the deserts - while you in the gardens of the Vatican sit in a shiny, luxourius limousine. ...And the Scriptures speak of Christ the Lord, that he had nothing to lay his head on - while you in the glittering hall of the Vatican sleep on the silky soft bedsheets. ...And the Scriptures speak of the Son of Man, that he always stood up for the oppressed, he cared for the paupers, healed the lepers, he did not wear gold, and despised money. - And into your palaces are only allowed The ministers, princes and leaders, and one must take their place among the powerful, to kiss the sandal on your foot. Oh, Bishop of Rome, "the first of God's servants" - from which world do your power and your homeland come? When your God calls you to his judgment will he acknowledge you? Did the might of Satan scare you Or do you wish to fight for the new truths, that you gave your private army machine guns and gas masks?
7.
Workers of COP* by Ziemowit Szczerek A bathroom in every flat The radio’s soothing voice It was supposed to be like that But different were the odds There is nothing to add up No money, no land, not a thing We work hard in the sweat And then – get wasted! But every bloke is proud He forges the future of COP Do you hear the iron steps? That’s us - the lost litter of urbanization! You can't build a future For what, for those pennies? But don't say you regret it Because you’re forging the Polish fate Part for the nook in some flat Part for the family in the countryside And all that’s left for you, poor man, Is something for the cheap booze Bottle of vodka, blank eyes The proud COP workers We live in the slums, that's life That’s us - the lost litter of urbanization! And then straight from Warsaw Reporter, a grand lord Arrives, wrings his hands To give money to people like those! Proles - pathology They want nothing but a drink These rotters do not deserve it Off with their payments, damn it! *The Central Industrial District (Polish: Centralny Okręg Przemysłowy, abbreviated COP)
8.
Grandiloquence or Foreign Affairs by Ziemowit Szczerek Hit the Lithuanian with a stock Commander, lead us to Kaunas! He did not want to create a state with us We have to humiliate those fuckers The Soviets had better behave Remember the miracle of the Vistula If they try something funny We’ll shove the Pinsk Fleet in their mouths! Belarussians, Ukrainians Those Orthodox loafers If they wish autonomy We’ll demolish the tserkovs and so long! As for the Czechs and Slovaks Hitler did a good job We also benefited from it And we took Zaolzie We will also beat the Krauts We will remind them of the first Tannenberg In our fields of wet mud Panzer platoons will be stuck! The only thing left is, you know The Kingdom of Romania Friendship has to be strengthened with them So we would have a place to flee to!
9.
So Help Us God by Jakub Lewicki and Andrzej Zagajewski The clergy love the peace They help the poor, they turn their cheek So today, for the sake of the good They fund the mortars for the army From offerings and sincere tributes Shovel, grenade, rifle To bring truth and liberation And to regain the Piast lands So help us God! Edicts - about guns Chasubles - for crusades Incense - for hussar wings Forgiveness of sins - for the clangor Bayonets - for caps Wafer - for the crusade Sprinklers - for hussar wings Forgiveness of sins - for the clash of bayonets We will pray for national intentions, That there would be more and more of us We will celebrate prayers in Częstochowa Let the evil Teutonic knight perish! The bishop will preach It's a God-given victory! He will explain in beautiful words Polish faith is a state matter So help us God!
10.
Madagaskar 04:53
Madagaskar by Ziemowit Szczerek The Most Serene set the sails Versatile and Victorious Hey, over the waters, over the ocean! After all, Poland has no colonies It’s a prestigious matter, after all You have to colonize something Whether English or the Spanish Even the Germans have done it We are not geese, we are not worse We also want to wear the shorts Pith helmets, mosquito nets All this fancy colonial stuff So instead of emigration Do our own gastarbeitation Civilize the dark skinned ones Do the white man’s burdening Every bloke must breed something Every country - colonize And will it pay off for us? Don't cut the wings, brother! Polish, Polish Caribbeans No matter it’s all on credit Who the hell needs us there The Great Polish Sea Power! Polish, Polish Madagascar Polish hand pets the Malagasy And it deeply cares caring for him Why is the Malagasy rejecting the Polish hand?

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released September 1, 2020

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Hańba! Kraków, Poland

Zbuntowana orkiestra podwórkowa / Folk Punk from 1930-40's Poland

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