https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rota_(poem)
We won't forsake the land we came from,
We won't let our speech be buried.
We are the Polish nation, the Polish people,
From the royal line of Piast.
We won't let the enemy oppress us.
To the last blood drop in our veins
We will defend our Spirit
Till into dust and ash shall fall,
The Teutonic Order's windstorm.
Every doorsill shall be a fortress.
The German won't spit in our face,
Nor Germanise our children,
Our host will arise in arms,
Spirit will lead the way.
We will go when the golden horn sounds.
We won't have Poland's name defamed,
We won't step alive into a grave.
In Poland's name, in its honor
We lift our foreheads proudly,
The grandson will regain his forefathers' land
So help us God!
So help us God!
>Till into dust and ash shall fall,
>The Teutonic Order's windstorm.
>Every doorsill shall be a fortress.
>It's called autism.
>sacrifices
>Peter Strzok's wife is Melissa Hodgman. She works at the SEC
tyb
Is there an individual in an unfriendly country who cannot be apprehended? What if the former commander of Iran’s Revolutionary Guards, Qassim Suleimani, visits Baghdad for a meeting and you know the address? The temptations to use hypersonic missiles will be many.
>We're archiving everything.