Red poppies on Monte Cassino

Were drinking not dew but Polish blood.

Soldiers walked on them and perished,

But stronger than death was their wrath.

Years will go by, then centuries,

The traces of old days won’t go

And poppies on Monte Cassino

Will redder be from Polish gore

Can you see the row of white crosses?

That’s where Poles with honor took vows.

Walk forward – the farther, the higher

The more at your feet you’ll find.

This land belongs to Poland,

Although Poland is far away,

For freedom is measured by crosses,

That’s history major mistake.