by GermanDeathCamps in Videos

By the time Maria Konopnicka wrote the poem Rota the mandated language of instruction in schools in the German partition (occupation zone) of Poland had long been German. In fact, by 1887, the study of Polish as a second language bacame forbidden, Polish textbooks having been banned earlier in 1874. Use of Polish was allowed only for religous instruction. In July 1901, however, the German Ministry of Education mandated the use of German in these classes as well. Protests ensued and in in Wrzesnia, a town some 35 miles east of Poznan the refusal ot children in April 1901 to participate in such classes amounted to a strike. On May 20th of that year, in an effort to break the strike, the German authorities decided to administer collective whipping to the children. News of this outrage spread far and wide engendering bitterness and revulsion. One of those who reacted was Maria Konopnicka, a poet, who composed the poem, the text of which the composer Feliks Nowowiejski later used in an anthem, now known as Rota (The Oath). The anthem was first performed by massed choirs from all over Poland at the 1910 unveiling of the Grunwald monument in Krakow. The sentiments expressed in the poem are stark and difficult to convey in a poetic translation. In an effort to provide the English speaking reader some feeling for the poem's starkness, the following translation seeks accuracy at the cost of flow and grace. We won't abandon the land whence our kin. We won't let our native tongue be buried, Polish people we are, Polish folk, We are of the Royal Piast clan. We won't let the enemy Germanize us! So help us God! So help us God! To the last drop of blood in our veins We'll defend our spirit, Till dissipates into powder and dust The Teutonic gale. Every threshold will be a stronghold for us. So help us God! So help us God! We won't let Poland's name be trampled, We won't alive into a coffin go In Motherland's name and her glory We raise our foreheads proudly. The grandparents' land the grandson will regain. So help us God! So help us God! The German won't spit in our face, Nor Geremanize our kids! Our phalanx armed will arise, The spirit will command us. We'll go when the golden horn calls. So help us God! So help us God!