Is made of the banging Shock-absorbers And hydrosulphuric stench, And the boiling, stinking, panting Factory line

Day and night Lamplights Always flicker out there

Every day! Fog and gloom. The labor is stretched To breaking, expectations Are extended. Dreams go undreamed.

Cemetery days. One after the other. White caskets, the planks Of our bunks Await our thoughts That grow ill in this hateful prison block.

(translated from the Polish by Fanny Howe and Arie Galles)