Far and wide as the eye can wander
Heath and bog are everywhere
Not a bird sings out to cheer us
Oaks are standing gaunt and bare
We are the peat-bog soldiers
We're marching with our spades
To the bog
Up and down the guards are pacing
No one, no one can go through
Flight would mean a sure death facing
Guns and barbed wire greet our view
We are the peat-bog soldiers
We're marching with our spades
To the bog
But for us there is no complaining
Winter will in time be past
One day we shall cry rejoicing:
"Homeland, dear, you're mine at last"
Then will the peat-bog soldiers
March no more with their spades
To the bog
Doch für uns gibt es kein Klagen
Ewig kann nicht Winter sein
Einmal werden froh wir sagen:
"Heimat, du bist wieder mein"
Dann ziehen die Moorsoldaten
Nicht mehr mit dem Spaten
Ins Moor
Dann ziehen die Moorsoldaten
Nicht mehr mit dem Spaten
Ins Moor