We shall know how to die, if the Homeland demands a sacrifice. No one shall bind our ranks with the evil chains of slavery. We have not learned to bow before the new law of invaders: To sell our own brother - no, we have not all learned that yet! We shall defend this land, as our ancestors defended it in olden days, Carrying the voice of our native soil deepest within our hearts. Though the fields and roads have been flooded with the groaning of the enslaved, Wherever you listen - all around, you hear only the footsteps of strangers. And surely there will come a day when, through a forest of fluttering flags, The white Vytis shall rise and shine high in the heavens! Our blood shall sing, bursting forth through the soil of our homeland, And upon the bleak grave, bright cups of lilies shall bloom. The trains shall thunder back, having carried away the share of our youth, And all the enchantments shall fade, as the crescent wanes beneath the sickle. Our fathers returned, our sisters from Komi, from the Urals, Shall kneel here, weeping, and kiss their native soil. We shall know how to die - not for another man's thought or word, Not for those who oppress, covering everything in the darkness of lies. Only for the dawn that will reveal the majestic sun of freedom - We shall know how to die with a joyful face and an unwavering spirit.

- Diana Glemžaitė. 🇱🇹
We Will Learn How to Die, Partisan Poem