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Ernst Busch, Die Moorsoldaten (The Peat Bog Soldiers)

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Published on Oct 20, 2008

This song was written in 1933 by two prisoners in Börgermoor, a Nazi moorland labor camp in Lower Saxony, Germany. The words were written by Johann Esser (a miner) and Wolfgang Langhoff (an actor); the music was composed by Rudi Goguel and was later adapted by Hanns Eisler and Ernst Busch

It was used as a marching song by the German volunteers of the International Brigades during the Spanish Civil War

This song comes from "Six Songs for Democracy," by Ernst Busch, which was recorded during the bombing of Barcelona.

Die Moorsoldaten

Wohin auch das Auge blicket.
Moor und Heide nur ringsum.
Vogelsang uns nicht erquicket.
Eichen stehen kahl und krumm. Wir sind die Moorsoldaten und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor. Wir sind die Moorsoldaten und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

Hier in dieser öden Heide
ist das Lager aufgebaut,
wo wir fern von jeder Freude
hinter Stacheldraht verstaut. Wir sind die Moorsoldaten etc

Morgens ziehen die Kolonnen
in das Moor zur Arbeit hin.
Graben bei dem Brand der Sonne,
doch zur Heimat steht der Sinn. Wir sind die Moorsoldaten etc

Heimwärts, heimwärts jeder sehnet,
zu den Eltern, Weib und Kind.
Manche Brust ein Seufzer dehnet,
weil wir hier gefangen sind. Wir sind die Moorsoldaten etc

Auf und nieder geh´n die Posten,
keiner, keiner kann hindurch.
Flucht wird nur das Leben kosten,
vierfach ist umzäunt die Burg. Wir sind die Moorsoldaten etc

Doch für uns gibt es kein Klagen,
ewig kann nicht Winter sein,
einmal werden froh wir sagen:
Heimat du bist wieder mein. Dann zieh´n die Moorsoldaten nicht mehr mit dem Spaten ins Moor. Dann zieh´n die Moorsoldaten nicht mehr mit dem Spaten ins Moor



Literal translation

Everywhere you watch
Bog and marshes all around
The chirping of the birds does not please us
Oaks are standing bare and crooked We are the bog soldiers And we move with the spade; into the bog We are Bog soldiers And we move with the spade; into the bog

Here inside this barren marshland
Is built up the camp.
Where we are far off every joy
Are locked up behind barbed wire. We are the bog soldiers etc

In the morning all of us
Go to work in the bog.
Digging under the searing sun,
But our mind is at home. We are the bog soldiers etc

Homeward, homeward we are yearning
to the parents, wife and children,
some chests are widened with a sigh,
because we are locked up here. We are the bog soldiers etc

Up and down the guards are walking
Nobody, nobody can get away.
Escape will cost your life
Four times the castle is secured. We are the bog soldiers etc

In spite of all we won't complain,
It can't be an endless winter.
One day we'll happily say
That our home belongs to us again. Then the bog soldiers will never take Their spades to the bog again. Then the bog soldiers will never take Their spades to the bog again.

  • Category

  • Song

  • Artist

    • Ernst Busch and Chorus
  • Album

    • Songs of the Spanish Civil War, Vol. 1: Songs of the Lincoln Brigade, Six Songs for Democracy
  • Licensed to YouTube by

    • The Orchard Music (on behalf of Folkways Records), and 1 Music Rights Societies

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