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Sayfa 708 / 788

Yazar: Adam Mickiewicz

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But they raised them straightway, for the master was playing
stronger and higher notes; he changed his measure, and proclaimed
something quite different from what had preceded. Once more he
looked down and measured the strings with his eye; he joined his
hands and smote with the two hammers in unison: the blow was so
artistic, so powerful, that the strings rang like brazen
trumpets, and from the trumpets a well-known song floated to the
heavens, a triumphal march, "Poland has not yet perished; march,
Dombrowski, to Poland!"-And all clapped their hands, and all
shouted in chorus, "March, Dombrowski!"

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