All language subtitles for Zrodzeni do szabli_2019_Full-HD

At the height of its power,

the Polish state stretched
from the Baltic to the Black Sea,

comprising a territory
with a combined surface area

of a million square kilometers.

Since the end of the 15th century,

Poland was an aristocratic republic,

governed by the king, the Senate,
and the Chamber of Envoys.

The 17th century was a period of
constant warfare for the Republic.

The security of the country
depended on the training of its soldiers.

Berestechko, 1651

I am Błażej Wronowski

of the Topór coat of arms.

Martial affairs
must have their proper order,

so we stand in formation awaiting command.

Standing among my brothers with
lance in hand and saber at my side,

I want to tell you about my life,

which I again offer under the protection
of the Most High before battle.

I came into the world
in the year of Our Lord 1612.

My father, being a martial man,

equipped our manor with
all varieties of arms

and there, among the
sabers of my ancestors,

he raised me in the spirit of knighthood.

The saber has an honored
place in my fatherland.

As they say, it binds together
the circle of life and death.

At my baptism, my father
did not hold me in his arms,

but atop two crossed sabers.

He was clearly saying
that I was the saber’s son;

with it I must live,

and with it I must die.

Blasius ego te baptizo.

In nomine Patris,

Et Filii,

Et Spiritus Sancti.

Amen.

- Amen.
- Amen.

When baptizing their sons,

Polish hussars
held them on two crossed sabers,

symbolizing that this child
was born for the saber

and must therefore
live and die with it.

Swordsman, author of the
reconstructed Cross-Cutting Art

This symbolism was later
adopted by the broader nobility,

and later, by the Bar Confederates
of the 18th century,

who, it is believed, were also
baptized on crossed sabers.

On these sabers, they often
had images of the Virgin Mary

or the name of Jesus,
above which was a cross

or the eye of Providence.

This custom is described by
Kazimierz Władysław Wóycicki

in the year 1843,

but it is unknown whether
this is a historical account

or perhaps a legend.

My father did not spare expenses
for my schooling.

Valuing a military education,
he wanted to hire a teacher for me,

who would give me lessons
in chivalric training.

There was a man who could do that.

His name was Jan Jerlicz.

It was he who with a firm hand

taught me to know justice,
wisdom, and courage.

His past was a secret to me,
but I knew that years ago,

while serving under my father,

he had been take into Muscovite captivity.

Strange stories circulated about him.

It was said that he fled captivity,
that he threw himself into combat alone,

that he sought vengeance
for the wrong done to him.

In the spring of 1620,
a letter arrived saying he was alive,

that he was returning to the country,
and that he was seeking shelter.

You were supposed to watch him!
And what did you do?

Have you got nothing to say?
Staring is all you’re good at!

A horse like that! Such a fortune!

Agnieszka, I told you to get out!

How could you, you fool?!
It’s almost still a foal!

I forbade you from going
anywhere near the stable.

- Maybe it will get better?
- Get better?! Nothing will get better!

Błażej, you ought to be beaten
with a whip and your skin torn to shreds.

What were you thinking, you mule?

You lamed the horse!
Its rear is like a rock.

You ruined my horse!

All Father knows how to do is yell.
If Mom was alive…

Don’t you say anything about your mother!

Where will you go?

I don’t know yet.

I have to rest.

I understand.

Years of wandering, the war.

Who ransomed you out of captivity?

Thank you, Jerzy.

Thank you!

Thank you for your hospitality
and your gracious bread.

I will rest a few days
and then continue on my way.

Where will you go?
Service is tough everywhere.

I don’t think retirement is for you yet.

You have military experience.

You can still sit on a horse.

Not to mention your hand you
were always deft with a saber,

Old Man.

Enough of that.

Bygones are bygones
that matter is settled.

I have some business with you.

Błażej!

Don’t stand there behind the door.

Come here.

A veteran that found shelter
in a hospitable manor

Historian, lecturer at the
University of Białystok

could also be employed as a
preceptor a teacher for his host’s sons.

He taught them swordsmanship,

riding on horseback,

and trained them in marksmanship
both in archery and with firearms.

The potential of old soldiers
and war veterans was utilized individually

to train the chivalric youth

at the magnate courts and
manors of the nobility.

- Do you know what this is?
- A cross...

No.
This is your world.

It has four quarters
and you will walk on it.

Get to work, crybaby!

My teacher armed me with a waster,

instructing me in the
direction of my cuts.

Step towards the heel Again!

He determined the order of the blows,

and I had to cut through
the air until my arm was tired,

Go on, strike! Put your back into it!

in order to get
the stick to utter a whistle.

Listen to me and remember:
pain is your friend,

and I won’t let it abandon you.

He told me to strike
at a wooden post…

I can’t!

...until the stick broke and
my hand got used to the pain.

Crybaby!

As I was of meagre posture,

he set my strength as
a goal and began to form it.

The difficulty
of his lessons and exercises

increased with every day.

There was little rest,
which intensified my anger.

With dread I recall those days,

for I had to pay for his
tenacity with sweat and blood.

Again.

Father said,

that you are a prime swordsman, Sir.

He told me how,
during your studies in Wittenberg,

you gave testimony to such prowess

that western swordsmen
couldn’t help but be amazed.

Your Father talks a lot.

Allegedly you, Sir, manhandled five

German hose-wearers with a stick,

meted out some lashes with
the cross-cutting art, and…

And you talk too much, too.
Here!

Today, too?

Yes, today, too, you little devil.
And pour some more water.

But it’s full!

It’s awfully heavy!

Heavy?

Then here, have a rock.

- What did I do wrong?
- It’ll make you stronger.

I was afraid of my instructor,
but my curiosity was stronger than fear.

The weapons with which he arrived

ignited my imagination,
sending my thoughts to far-away places.

There was some kind of magic in this,

the likes of which human
reason cannot explain.

Audaciously, I would bare his
saber from its scabbard

and, like a military commander,
would victoriously raise it in the air.

God called us

to be like candles in the darkness.

We must do our duty

and extinguish

when the time comes.

And that was fear.

Your greatest enemy

and once your most faithful companion.

It is against it that you will fight.

Come to love it like a brother
and it will never surprise you.

The saber (pol. szabla) was
conjoined with Polish history long ago…

Linguist, Professor
of Humanities

...although the word szabla
itself is of eastern origin,

and we aren’t even sure
exactly where it’s from.

It is suspected
that somewhere, at its origins,

there was the Tungusic word
seleme, and then unfortunately,

before a word for it
entered the Polish language,

the word sablia was used in
Old Ruthenian and szablya in Hungarian.

We adopted it from
the Hungarians in the end,

or otherwise from the Russians.

The szabla was
most characteristically Polish.

It was our language,
our literature,

and our various sayings,
that it entered most strongly.

There were also many ways

in which the word for saber
could be employed idiomatically.

Sometimes even a person
could be referred to as a saber.

For example, the first saber of
the Commonwealth was, as we know,

Michał Wołodyjowski,
although he himself didn’t say as much,

claiming that others, too,

had put a few notches in
him during saber duels.

Going into battle,
one called: “To your Sabers!”

Or: “Sabers in hand!”

Indeed, “Sabers in hand,
bows in the saddlebags,

and strap down the plunder,”

is what the gentlemen
from the elite would sing.

In any case, sabers were drawn
any time there was a fight.

But were they drawn only
in need of fighting?

Afterall, we know that
when it comes to sabers,

it’s best to have companions
that are, as the saying goes,

“good for the saber, and good for party.”

It is said that,

“Poles and Hungarians brothers
be; good for saber, and good for party.”

Sabers were something
completely natural for a Pole.

They were even said to grow into the hand

“Ha! It flies in the hand as
though it had fused itself to it,”

said the character of Cześnik
about his damascene saber

in Aleksander Fredro’s play, Revenge.

“She has turned many a mere
candidate into a representative!”

The saber is the most standard weapon.
“For every Pole, there’s a saber.”

It is unknown whether the
Cossacks truly had such a saying

or if Sienkiewicz put it in their mouths.

But we do know that instead of
saying “man” you could say “szabla”.

For example, “And how many
sabers there were,”

or “We rode two hundred sabers-strong”.

How many sabers there were means
how many people there were.

Sabers equal people, people equal sabers.

Linguistically, we do not know
if this is meant to indicate partnership,

or if it is in substitution

for a man can be a
saber and a saber a man,

and a man can be with his saber
and a saber with its owner.

- With experience and beneviolence,
- Benevolence,

benevolence, he will serve the
beginning of the other si-side.

Who’s that?

- Turkish warriors.
- Did you ever fight them?

I did.

They’re cunning and dangerous.

We have peace on our borders now,
but we should be watchful of them,

watchful and ready.

They have shields.
You know how to do that, too.

I do. I do.

In Turkey, I saw warriors who
slashed at clay with their sabers.

A saber

can easily get stuck in sticky clay
the same way it can in a body.

That’s why you have to strike
from the shoulder while drawing the cut.

There, a good Janissary
cares nothing about fatigue

that’s why you must get at him
with the right technique.

Look, these are Germans.

Methodical and disciplined.

I had man an opportunity
to cool their fervor.

- Are those sabers?
- That isn’t steel. That’s a dussack.

A leather blade,
reinforced with ash wood.

This is what they use to prepare
the arm to wield a saber.

It appears inconspicuous,
but if you get hit, it hurts like hell.

Experience comes
with hard work and pouring sweat.

A man well-versed in the saber
must look and be able to see.

To read movement like...

Like a falcon spotting
a mouse in tall grass.

Exactly!

In the second half of the 16th century,

influenced by the military
successes of the Ottoman Empire,

Europeans began taking note
of parts of oriental armature.

In the German countries,
there appears the dussack,

a form of wooden training saber.

It was then that the Europeans
began to combine eastern arms

with the principles of their
own native swordsmanship.

The Poles draw their
knowledge of saber fighting

both from east and west
as well as the south, via Hungary.

They simplify and modify
individual techniques,

creating in this way the foundations
of the cross-cutting art.

The cross-cutting art

is a brutally effective system
of saber fencing employed in Poland,

which became
universally used in the country

in the 16th and 17th centuries.

It was one of the essential factors

of the Most Serene Polish Republic’s
military power for the next 200 years.

The old Polish style
of swordsmanship was based on

executing lightning-fast
and deadly cross-cuts,

combining elements of eastern
and western combat systems.

The main focus was placed
on the force of the cut,

as well as its precision,

and a uniquely efficient
method of movement.

Mobility is one of the most
important features of this fighting style.

The cross-cutting school
utilizes the footwork technique

developed for medieval swordplay,
which was still in use in western Europe

during the renaissance.

The fighting strategy is based
upon executing two sequential

cuts which cross
one-another’s trajectory.

Here we have an interesting example

of combining
and perfecting various techniques

from otherwise distant
geographic planes.

Eastern arms and their
undeniable merits were combined

with a very effective footwork
method developed in Europe.

When I could be alone,
I used to go to the water

to practice my cuts in
the Cossack fashion.

I dealt my blows to the water’s surface,

checking whether my labors
weren’t going in vain.

My faith in my own strength grew.

One day, wanting to
give show to my skills,

in anger, I attacked my teacher.

Cross-cut, Błażej.

Calm down.
A cool head has its worth.

Get up! Get up!

Get up, crybaby!

You’re dead.

Again.

Keep tempo, Błażej.

Measure the distance.

Cut from the shoulder!

Draw the cut.

Deflect your opponent’s
cut with your own.

Use the deflection to
parry dynamically.

Get your arm higher!

With time, the fluidity of movement
grew into my body,

and the training stick
became an extension of my arm.

I was taught how
to behead a man with one cut

and how to surprise
my opponent with a slash.

I learned how to predict
my opponent’s movement

and how to gain an advantage over him.

When the day was still dawning,
I would run up to rocky mountain

which had always
served as a temple to me.

Suspended in silence and space,

I felt the strength that
was growing inside of me.

Fighting with wasters (pol. palcaty)

was the central pillar of the
fencing abilities of the Poles.

Thanks to an education system
based on the experiences of veterans

as well as regular bouts fought
with training sticks since childhood.

the Poles mastered the art
of saber combat to perfection.

Amen.

On Sunday, during Mass,
I was taught the sacred tradition.

All of the lords-noblemen
gathered at the church

with sabers at their belts,
in military fashion.

When the priest chanted
the words of the Gospel,

they would draw their sabers
from their scabbards, as if to battle.

With this ritual,

they declared that they were
ready to willingly and boldly fight,

and, if need be, die to defend the faith.

My teacher often repeated
that he who was with God,

in turn, had God with him,

though I do not know if he believed it.

Christ forgave you already long ago.

The youth and other retinue
that arrived with their lords

rushed to the wasters by the
church to recruit passersby.

Some by force,
others through cunning,

they threw them
into the fighting circle,

not allowing them to escape
until they first fought a duel.

Thus, they fought until they shed blood,

the wooden wasters leaving
painful mementos on their heads.

Vivat Red-head!

Vivat Kacper!
Vivat! Vivat!

Silentium! Silentium, brothers!

One more.

Circle!

Form a circle!

Instigators, damn you, come to me.

Come to me, I say!

Move your asses.
Grab a volunteer for our circle.

Quickly!

My turn came as well.

A chick pushed out of its nest

has no idea how high it may soar.

We have a cocky one!

The company welcomes you graciously.

Welcome!

Welcome.

Batter him, the dog!

The crow came to ruffle his feathers
before the falcon’s eyes, what a surprise!

Beat him, Kacper! Beat him!

Vivat Kacper!

Kacper! Kacper! Kacper! Kacper!

Beat him, brother! Beat him!

Vivat the crow!

Vivat the crow!

Vivat the crow!

The crow knocked him out with his beak.

The crow can hold his own, indeed!

Without his feather’s he’ll be meek!

From the perspective of today,
waster fights may seem brutal.

However, we must remember

that their purpose was the
military preparation of the youth;

strengthening it physically
and psychologically.

It formed the spirit of combat
of the Commonwealth’s future soldiers.

It made them resistant to the
difficulties of being military campaign

while usually being
in numerically inferior circumstances.

Leave me be. I’ll do it myself.

The purchase of such a saber
was a two-step process.

Sabersmith, Master of Armscraft

Sabers were bought from sabersmiths,

but sabersmiths didn’t
necessarily make the blades.

The blade could have been
made by a blacksmith.

The blacksmith would already
have the blades categorized.

Despite following approximately
the same technological process,

creating two identical
blades was impossible,

due to varying material quality,

or slightly differing
environmental conditions.

Sometimes he would make good blades.

Other times, he would
make excellent ones.

- Praised be Jesus Christ.
- Now and forever.

Greetings, Your Lordships.

- Where is it that God leads you?
- We are looking for a fine blade.

I believe you will find one here.

Welcome.

My teacher would say that a
nobleman cannot acquire a saber

without first trying it.

He explained to me

how to tell the difference
between true craftsmanship and botchery,

and which methods serve
to discern between the two.

This one is the best.

Blades are not made out of
a single piece of material

but instead possess a lamellar structure.

There is a soft core at the center;

on the outside, there is a
semi-durable cover layer,

while the cutting parts
possess a very hard edge.

And so, all of these materials
must be combined by the blacksmith

by heating them in the proper proportion.

Once we finally form our blade

and stretch it to the appropriate length,

we must remember
to carve out the fuller.

When the fuller
has been complexly forged out,

we must leave enough to
be chiseled out later,

being careful not to exceed
certain parameters for balance.

It’s a very pleasant and easy job,
a woman could basically do it;

which I have shown many times
at various demonstrations.

The ladies were quite surprised
that it was going so easily.

The last step before hardening
the blade is equalizing it.

It isn’t always necessary,
but it sometimes happens

that the blade twists
into a so-called propeller,

meaning it isn’t centrally axial.

That’s when we use a kind of large hammer

with a very broad surface area.

Another person, a helper,
then strikes that hammer

on the leader’s signal.

In this way, we nicely stabilize the blade

and it essentially
becomes ready for hardening.

In the very process
of hardening the blade,

the moment of quenching
the blade in cooling liquid

and orienting it in relation

to the geographic cardinal
directions are important.

The blade tends to curve,

to bend either right or
left during quenching

if we change the orientation.

By maintaining
the magnetic north-south line,

the blade always comes
out much straighter.

I’ve tried it multiple times
and I know that’s how it is.

The blade achieves its true hardness

only after a period of 8-9
months, during which it rests.

That’s how it was once done.

The blades would make their way
to appropriate storage areas,

and there they matured for
some time before being fitted.

I would again take up and finish
blades that had been tempered

tempering meaning
prepared for further work

after the aforementioned
period of 8-9 months,

and they’d be hard as glass,

so there must be something going
on with them during that period.

What that something is

whether it is magic or some
kind of mysticism, I cannot say.

I can only state the fact
that that’s how it is.

My teacher cleaned the blade
with the flap of his robe

to remove the grease that some
blacksmiths use to hide defects.

Soon afterwards,

he inspected the spine of the
saber to see if it was straight,

because only such a blade could
reach its target in flight.

He cut a cross in the air

so that the saber would
let out a vibrant whistle,

confirming its sharpness.

Then, he dashed the flat
of the blade against the bend of a saddle,

in order to feel the vibration
and judge the rigidity of the blade.

Finally, he held the saber tenderly
and moved his big finger along the back,

searching for a notch that might
betray weakness in the blade.

You’ve earned it.

Sabers were handed down
from generation to generation

as the most precious family treasures;

treasures that were
witness to past battles

and important historical events.

Sabers were blessed;
they were given names;

they were surrounded by great
esteem a particular respect.

It was a perfect weapon,
which found its special place

in the hearts of Polish people.

Is that enough now?

A damascene, Sir,
is worth its weight in gold.

A blade alone, however,
is not enough to make a saber.

One must also have a guard and
it is that which truly defines

whether a saber is Polish or foreign.

It isn’t the blade that
determines this because,

often, Polish sabers
employed foreign blades.

These blades were often
Austrian, Styrian, Italian,

or Turkish, equipped with Polish fittings.

The guard is quite complex
and is made up of two crosses,

one of which may be slightly different,
from which we form the thumb-ring.

The guard of the saber developed
over the course of centuries.

At the turn
of the 16th and 17th centuries,

the so-called Polish-Hungarian
type of saber was developed

that is, a saber
equipped with a thumb-ring.

It is an invention which we utilized

having adapted solutions from
western Europe to our Polish saber.

Poland occupies
a special geographic location,

and thus we had the opportunity

to combine all of these
beneficial qualities

of both eastern and western arms.

Not in the salons,
but in the fire of battle,

through tests and trials
did this weapon of ours prove itself.

It was a perfect weapon.

The szabla settled duels, tavern brawls,

and local council disputes.

It was said that “without a saber,
don’t leave the bedchamber,”

but although the saber

accompanied the nobility
in their everyday lives,

its true element was war!

In the summer of the
year of Our Lord 1632,

the Muscovite armies
besieged Smolensk.

Two years later, our banners
arrived with a relief force

and repelled the enemy
onto the left bank of the Dnieper.

To finish him off,
we furtively snuck through the forests

in the direction of their camp.

We wanted to cut off
their line of retreat.

It’s a trap!
Take cover!

Fasten the fuses.

- And you, stay close to me, clear?
- Clear.

Sit.

Bloody hell.

They’re coming.

Fire!

They surprised us.

We fought like mad but we had to yield
under the pressure of our foe.

I myself had to fight for my
life against the czar’s officer,

Dimitri Repnin.

Run.

Run!

Fall back.

To the left, Błażej,
to the left! Run! Run!

No!

Son of a bitch!

Blyat’!

Cross-cut, Błażej.

Deflect your opponent’s cut with your own.
Use the deflection to parry dynamically.

I’ll slaughter you!

Look,

look how beautiful it is.

...And we must extinguish

when the time comes.

Preserving the memory
of Jan Jerlicz’s sacrifice,

I found peace in further battle.

I carried a trophy
Muscovite saber in my saddlebag

as thanks for my saved life,

and this I offered at our church
as a votive sacrifice.

It was a difficult time

and my heart was filled with
pain after the loss my teacher,

but I also felt
a great gratitude towards him.

And so, I bade farewell
to my savior with a prayer.

Wars continue to sweep
through the Commonwealth.

Dismounting my horse and putting down
my saber has become a rarity for me.

Though I alone don’t mean much,

standing side by side

with soldiers from
different parts of the country,

with different faiths,

we form a great wall

that strikes fear
into the hearts of our enemies.

Because it is our duty

to stand with saber in hand and
to fight for the glory of the fatherland,

to hold death in contempt,

and to defend the majesty
of the Most Serene Republic.

This film is the crowning achievement

of the Sieniawski family's
many-year efforts to preserve

the traditions of the Polish saber
and recreate the "Cross-cutting Art".

Directed by

Written by

Starring