Łowy from 1939 by Hańba!
Tracklist
| 3. | Łowy | 4:18 |
Lyrics
The Hunt
by Zuzanna Ginczanka (1917-1945)
Into the thickets of the past, into the distant times
Into the menacing, winding forests and woods
With their hands woven into harnesses and manes
Hunters in black their horses ride
Oh, the beautiful hunt! Oh, the proud hunt!
In the alcove’s clandestine history
With nostrils inflated and bent backs
With lips pursed and focused sight
They run like the wind in a black gallop
Following the faintest of traces, the feeblest of tracks
What kind of zeal makes their sight so clear?
What do they look for? What kind of beast?
What impulse stretches their chests
Worthy of a knight, worthy of a man
The hunters ride into a distant time
Where tracks’ve overgrown and traces have darkened
In the thickets of the past, like an ant, working hard
They search for the granny, for Jewish gram!
The Jewish granny of their neighbor,
Their sworn enemy, their good fellow
And when they sniff her out like a hind
They blow their trumpets, horns and play!
Tense nerves, fierce sight
He’s the hunter, the blue-eyed, blonde
translated by Marta Ziegler
