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Die Moorsoldaten [Börgermoorlied; Das Moorlied]

Rudi Goguel
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3b. The Peat-Bog Soldiers - La versione inglese di Frank Pine...
THE PEAT BOG SOLDIERS

Far and wide as the eye can wander,
Heath and bog are everywhere.
Not a bird sing out to cheer us.
Oaks are standing gaunt and bare.

We are the peat bog soldiers,
Marching with our spades
to the moor.

Up and down the guards are marching,
No one, no one can get through.
Flight would mean a sure death facing,
Guns and barbed wire block our view.

We are the peat bog soldiers,
Marching with our spades
to the moor.

But for us there is no complaining,
Winter will in time be past.
One day we shall rise rejoicing.
Homeland, dear, you're mine at last.

No more the peat bog soldiers
Will march with our spades
to the moor.
THE PEAT-BOG SOLDIERS
(Die Moorsoldaten)

Any directions you might see,
Bog and heath is everywhere.
Here are no birds to sing for me
The oaks, they stand twisted and bare.

We are the bog battalion,
On spade instead of stallion,
In bog.

In such a deserted landscape
Just for us, this compound dire.
Far from friends and with no escape
We are cached behind barbed wire.

We are the bog battalion,
On spade instead of stallion,
In bog.

Columns long, we head for the bog
To dig the early morning.
We sweat in sun, work like a dog,
And think of loved ones mourning.

We are the bog battalion,
On spade instead of stallion,
In bog.

Thought to home and hearth do return,
To parents, wife and children.
Many a breast may sigh and yearn
To leave this prison, when, oh when?

We are the bog battalion,
On spade instead of stallion,
In bog.

The patrols guard us day and night,
Escape is a losing sport.
Your life's not worth attempted flight,
Four rings of wire fence the fort.

We are the bog battalion,
On spade instead of stallion,
In bog.

Complaining will not set us free;
Winter can't last forever.
The time will come when we will see,
Our homeland ours, together.

Then no more bog battalion
No spade instead of stallion
In Bog.


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