Górecki's Symphony No. 3

I

My son, my chosen and beloved

Share your wounds with your mother

And because, dear son, I have always carried you in my heart,

And always served you faithfully

Speak to your mother, to make her happy,

Although you are already leaving me, my cherished hope.

(Lamentation of the Holy Cross Monastery from the "Lysagóra Songs" collection. Second half of the 15th century)

II

No, Mother, do not weep,

Most chaste Queen of Heaven

Support me always.

"Zdrowas Mario." (*)

(Prayer inscribed on wall 3 of cell no. 3 in the basement of "Palace," the Gestapo's headquarters in Zadopane; beneath is the signature of Helena Wanda Blazusiakówna, and the words "18 years old, imprisoned since 26 September 1944.")

(*) "Zdrowas Mario" (Ave Maria)—the opening of the Polish prayer to the Holy Mother

III

Where has he gone

My dearest son?

Perhaps during the uprising 

The cruel enemy killed him

Ah, you bad people

In the name of God, the most Holy,

Tell me, why did you kill

My son?

Never again

Will I have his support

Even if I cry

My old eyes out

Were my bitter tears

to create another River Oder

They would not restore to life

My son

He lies in his grave

and I know not where

Though I keep asking people

Everywhere

Perhaps the poor child

Lies in a rough ditch

and instead he could have been

lying in his warm bed

Oh, sing for him

God's little song-birds

Since his mother 

Cannot find him

And you, God's little flowers

May you blossom all around

So that my son

May sleep happily

(Folk song in the dialect of the Opole region)

I

Synku miły i wybrany,

Rozdziel z matką swoje rany,

A wszakom cię, synku miły, w swem sercu nosiła,

A takież tobie wiernie służyła.

Przemów k matce, bych się ucieszyła,

Bo już jidziesz ode mnie, moja nadziejo miła.

Lament świętokrzyski

z "Pieśni łysogórskich"

(druga połowa XV w.)

II

Mamo, nie płacz, nie.

Niebios Przeczysta Królowo,

Ty zawsze wspieraj mnie.

Zdrować Mario, Łaskiś Pełna.

Zakopane "Pałace"

cela nr 3 ściana nr 3

Błazusiakówna Helena Wanda

lat 18 siedzi od 25 IX 44

III

Kajze mi sie podziol

moj synocek mily?

Pewnie go w powstaniu

zle wrogi zabily.

Wy niedobrzy ludzie,

dlo Boga swietego

cemuscie zabili

synocka mojego?

Zodnej jo podpory

juz nie byda miala,

chocbych moje stare

ocy wyplakala.

Chocby z mych lez gorkich

drugo Odra byla,

jesce by synocka

mi nie ozywila.

Lezy on tam w grobie,

a jo nie wiem kandy

choc sie opytuja

miedzy ludzmi wsandy.

Moze nieborocek

lezy kay w dolecku,

a moglby se lygac

na swoim przypiecku.

Ej, cwierkejcie mu tam,

wy ptosecki boze,

kiedy mamulicka

znalezc go nie moze.

A ty, boze kwiecie,

kwitnijze w okolo,

niech sie synockowi

choc lezy wesolo

fragment Pieśni ludowej z opolskiego.