To the Dancing Cracow

When Fate, determined to break the country's power,
Draws near Poland's destiny in its final hour,
When from the last remnants of their native shelters
Brave Poles are pushed out and leave for foreign quarters,
When no one would protect us or wished to do so,
Many would ruin this land, few for its defense show;
What a happy occasion for feasts and prances,
Careless dwellers' wives and daughters join in dances,
Knights dance, so do the most important officials,
They dance in their homes and almost outside the halls. 
Foreigners applaud us and tell us to go on, 
The Pole always kept dancing to the piper's tone. 
The ball in this land began with the waltz, quadrille, 
It ends with the cossack, this is a custom still. 
And although it will not take long for the last prance, 
Some can do well the first, others the second dance. 
A coquettish Grace herself, if one is willing, 
After a quadrille in cossack is excelling. 
O thank you, Polish women's superb deportment!
Poland dies... Let's dance, so long as time our servant, 
Let us dance, what will happen next not worrying, 
Let's end the scene with grand airs, our light heads spinning. 
There is not, fair sex, any reason for chagrin, 
Dance is with all nations held in highest esteem: 
Whether a Muscovite or German takes this land, 
He'll destroy our language and laws, but he'll waltz grand; 
I can't contain my sighs, for among Polish women, 
When their mother dies, I see dancing children.

Translated by Michal J. Mikos