A song composed in 1814 by an officer of the Mounted Riflemen of the Imperial Guard, in connection with the return of the Polish Light Horse Regiment of the Guard to Poland.Farewell to the Polish Lancers by the Mounted Riflemen of the Imperial Guardor Les lancers polonaisIn cold ScandinaviaThe hero's name is:Suddenly enslaved PolandComes to Napoleon.He broke the barriers.This friend of the French nation.And France, as one of their bravePolish uhlans count.And France, as one of their bravePolish uhlans count.He doesn't regret leaving his homeland, Napoleon, these are warriors. Go to the lands of Iberia, to reap the harvest of laurels. Wherever honor calls, they want to try the deed. And all in glory are faithful brave Polish uhlans. And France, as one of their brave Polish uhlans count. When fortune is too capricious, when the darkest betrayal. All those deprived of courage our great Napoleon, hey, lend their arms touching France in farewell. And we saw the cry brave Polish uhlans. And we saw the cry brave Polish uhlans.
Napoleon, the army's tender, had this to say in that cruel moment: "Return to your country, come, I give you an oath." He believed in his sad refuge, you followed France, but he found his island, Polish uhlans still, but he found his island, Polish uhlans yet. You, who in our noble days, participated in glory, in your Polish destiny, heaven must finally set. But in a sudden alarm, friends, we will never forget, we had in you Brothers in arms, brave Polish uhlans; we had in you Brothers in arms, brave Polish uhlans.
