It's a potem "Czerwona zaraza" by Józef Szczepański. This Home Army soldier and a poet was generally the author of humorous, optimistic song lyrics, so this text stands in stark contrast with his usual works - quite significantly so.
A very rough and not at all poetic translation of the poem, just to give you the idea how bitter and conflicted this is:
Józef Szczepański „Red Blight”
We await you, red blight,
To save us from black death,
First you tore our country apart
Now to be a saviour welcomed with disgust.
We await you, might of the crowd
dehumanized by your rulers' whip
we await you to crush us like a wave
with your boot and your slogan
We await you, our eternal enemy,
bloody murderer of our countless brothers,
we await you not to make you pay,
but to welcome you with bread in our hands
If you ever knew, hateful saviour,
How we wish you death in our gratitude
And how we clench our helpless hands
Asking you for help, insidious torturer
If you ever knew, you who executed our granfathers,
Grim legend of Syberian prisons,
how your mercy will be cursed
By all Slavs, your brothers
If you knew how horribly does it pain
Us, children of the Great, the Independent, the Saint [Poland]
To be chained by your accursed mercy
Stinking of centennial slavery
Your army, triumphant, red,
Lay before the fiery glows of the burning Warsaw
And feeds its rotten soul upon the torment
of reckless few, dying among the ruins
A month has passed since the Uprising began
and you delude us with your thundering guns
knowing how anguished we'll be to know
we were deceived again
We await you - not for us, soldiers,
but for our wounded - we have thousands
and for the children, and for nursing mothers
cowering in blighted basements
We await you, as you delay again and again,
You fear us, and we know it
You are lying in wait near Warsaw
And you wait us all to die
Doing nothing. You've got a choice
You can help us - save us all
or hold up and leave us for dead
Death is not frightening - we're masters of dying
But know this! From our grave
New, victorious Poland will be born
And you will not walk on this land
Red lord of beastly might
many thanks to my son Karol who helped me with this quick translation.