Piesn Obozowa (Camp Song)
Polish language recording of the song performed by the author (USHMM, ca. 1960).

This song was written in April of 1945 by Zbigniew Koczanowicz at Falkensee, a sub-camp of Sachsenhausen where he was interned.
(after Auschwitz and Gross-Rosen) The song was also known as "Marsz Zbyszka Koczanowicza" (after the lyricist). It apparently had some association with the clandestine "camp patrol" that was formed by the remaining prisoners of Falkensee in 1945, among whom was Koczanowicz. This "patrol" supposedly knew of the German arsenal of secret weapons and took arms from it to defend themselves against the prison guards.
According to Aleksander Kulisiewicz, the melody to "Piesn Obozowa" was adapted by Koczanowicz from a nineteenth century Russian folksong. Koczanowicz's poem was later set to an original melody by his fellow prisoner,
Ludwik Zuk-Skarszewski.

Anonymous
Caricature of the Falkensee Camp Orchestra,
Conducted by Ludwik Zuk-Skarszewski, 1944, Falkensee

Zbigniew Koczanowicz

Verse #1

Separated from the world by barbed wire,
We're rounded up from everywhere,
The longing woven into our hearts,
Throbs like the ringing of a bell.

The longing woven into our hearts,
Throbs like the ringing of a bell.

Verse #2

You with the striped rag on your back,
Could you forget who you are - and where?
They stitched a number to your breast,
A red triangle and the letter "P",

They stitched a number to your breast,
A red triangle and the letter "P"

Verse #3

And your shaved head serves to remind you,
Of the burden of your unknown sins.
And you yearn for the day
When your will and your purpose return.

And you yearn for the day
When your will and your purpose return.

Verse #4

Neither stars nor sun bring you happiness,
Neither day nor night yield pleasure.
You stand and you wait, dressed in stripes and shaved bare,
With thousands of men like yourself.

You stand and you wait, dressed in stripes and shaved bare,
With thousands of men like yourself.

Verse #5

The words of this song are stained with our blood,
Within them are sorrow and grief,
Yet your camp song will carry beyond these barbed wires,
To a distant place unknown to you.

Yet your camp song will carry beyond these barbed wires,
To a distant place unknown to you.