Music of the holocaust
Lyricist: Zbigniew Koczanowicz
Composer: Ludwik Zuk-Skarszewski
Piesn Obozowa (Camp Song)
Separated from the world by barbed wire,
We’re rounded up from everywhere
The longing woven into our hearts,
Throbs like a ringing bell.
You with the striped rag on your back,
Could you forget who you are—and where?
They stitched a number to your breast,
A red triangle and the letter “P”.
And your shaved head reminds you,
Of your burden of sins unknown,
And you yearn for the day
When your will and your purpose return.
Neither stars nor sun bring you happiness,
Neither day nor night yields joy.
You stand and wait, dressed in stripes and shaved bare;
With thousands of others like you.
The words of this song are stained with our blood,
Within them are sorrow and grief,
Yet your camp song will carry beyond these barbed wires
To a distant place unknown to you.
Yet your camp song will carry beyond these barbed wires
To a distant place unknown to you.
Lyrics by: Jura Soyfer
Music by: Herbert Zipper
Dachau Song(Dachau Lied)
Barbed wire, loaded with death
is drawn around our world.
Above a sky without mercy
sends frost and sunburn.
Far from us are all joys,
far away our homeland, far away our women,
when we march to work in silence
thousands of us at the break of day.
But we have learned the solution of Dachau
and became as hard as steel:
Be a man, comrade,
stay a human being, comrade,
do a good job, get to it, comrade,
for work, work makes you free!
Music by: Herbert Zipper
Dachau Song(Dachau Lied)
Barbed wire, loaded with death
is drawn around our world.
Above a sky without mercy
sends frost and sunburn.
Far from us are all joys,
far away our homeland, far away our women,
when we march to work in silence
thousands of us at the break of day.
But we have learned the solution of Dachau
and became as hard as steel:
Be a man, comrade,
stay a human being, comrade,
do a good job, get to it, comrade,
for work, work makes you free!
The Soldiers of the Moor
(Die Moorsoldaten)
Lyrics by: Johann Esser and Wolfgang Langhoff
Music by: Rudi Goguel
Wherever the eye may wander,
All around only moor and heath.
No singing of the birds to raise our spirits,
Oak trees stand bleak and crooked.
We are the peat bog soldiers
And travel spade in hand
Into the moor!
Here in this bleak heath
The camp was built,
Far from any joy
We lie hidden away behind barbed wire.
We are the peat bog soldiers…
Work columns leave in the morning
To go into the moor.
We dig while the sun burns down on us,
But our thoughts remain with home.
We are the peat bog soldiers…
Homewards, homewards, each of us longs
To our parents, wives, and children.
A sigh opens up many of our chests,
Because we are caught here.
We are the peat bog soldiers…
The guards walk back and forth
No one, no one can get through,
Escape will only cost you your life,
The fort is fenced four times around
We are the peat bog soldiers…
But for us there are no complaints
Because it cannot be winter forever.
Someday we will happily say:
Home, you are mine again.
Then the peat bog soldiers
Will no longer travel spade in hand
Into the moor!
(Die Moorsoldaten)
Lyrics by: Johann Esser and Wolfgang Langhoff
Music by: Rudi Goguel
Wherever the eye may wander,
All around only moor and heath.
No singing of the birds to raise our spirits,
Oak trees stand bleak and crooked.
We are the peat bog soldiers
And travel spade in hand
Into the moor!
Here in this bleak heath
The camp was built,
Far from any joy
We lie hidden away behind barbed wire.
We are the peat bog soldiers…
Work columns leave in the morning
To go into the moor.
We dig while the sun burns down on us,
But our thoughts remain with home.
We are the peat bog soldiers…
Homewards, homewards, each of us longs
To our parents, wives, and children.
A sigh opens up many of our chests,
Because we are caught here.
We are the peat bog soldiers…
The guards walk back and forth
No one, no one can get through,
Escape will only cost you your life,
The fort is fenced four times around
We are the peat bog soldiers…
But for us there are no complaints
Because it cannot be winter forever.
Someday we will happily say:
Home, you are mine again.
Then the peat bog soldiers
Will no longer travel spade in hand
Into the moor!
Zog Nit Keynmol (never say)
Never say that this is the end of the road.
Wherever a drop of our blood fell, there our courage will
grow anew.
This song, written in blood, was sung by a people fighting
for life and freedom.
Our triumph will come and our resounding footsteps will
proclaim "We are here!" From land of palm-trees to the far-off land of snow.
We shall be coming with our torment, with our woe;
And everywhere our blood has sunk into the earth
Shall our bravery, or vigor blossom forth. We'll have the morning sun to set our day aglow;
Our evil yesterdays shall vanish with the foe.
But if the time is long before the sun appears,
then let this song go like a signal through the years. This song was written with our blood, and not with lead;
It's not a song that summer birds sing overhead;
It was a people, amidst burning barricades,
That sang this song of ours with pistols and grenades. So never say you now go on your last way,
Through darkened skies may now conceal the blue of day,
Because the hour for which we've hungered is so near,
Beneath our feet the earth shall thunder, "We are here!"
Never say that this is the end of the road.
Wherever a drop of our blood fell, there our courage will
grow anew.
This song, written in blood, was sung by a people fighting
for life and freedom.
Our triumph will come and our resounding footsteps will
proclaim "We are here!" From land of palm-trees to the far-off land of snow.
We shall be coming with our torment, with our woe;
And everywhere our blood has sunk into the earth
Shall our bravery, or vigor blossom forth. We'll have the morning sun to set our day aglow;
Our evil yesterdays shall vanish with the foe.
But if the time is long before the sun appears,
then let this song go like a signal through the years. This song was written with our blood, and not with lead;
It's not a song that summer birds sing overhead;
It was a people, amidst burning barricades,
That sang this song of ours with pistols and grenades. So never say you now go on your last way,
Through darkened skies may now conceal the blue of day,
Because the hour for which we've hungered is so near,
Beneath our feet the earth shall thunder, "We are here!"
Buchenwaldlied (Buchenwald song)
When the day awakens
And the sun is laughing
The columns go forth
From the day's toil
Through the grey of the morning.
And the woods are black
And the sky red.
And we carry in the sack a piece of bread,
But in our heart, in our heart the worry.
Oh, Buchenwald, I can never forget you,
Because you are my fate.
Who leaves you, he only is able to comprehend
How wonderful freedom is.
Oh, Buchenwald, we do not cry and complain.
Whatever may be our future
We shall in spite of it say yes to life,
Because once the day shall come,
When we shall be free
When the day awakens
And the sun is laughing
The columns go forth
From the day's toil
Through the grey of the morning.
And the woods are black
And the sky red.
And we carry in the sack a piece of bread,
But in our heart, in our heart the worry.
Oh, Buchenwald, I can never forget you,
Because you are my fate.
Who leaves you, he only is able to comprehend
How wonderful freedom is.
Oh, Buchenwald, we do not cry and complain.
Whatever may be our future
We shall in spite of it say yes to life,
Because once the day shall come,
When we shall be free