Much of the city’s elite turned out
I was an honored peasant guest
From chamber music in the foyer
To flanking giant screens
It was a first class affair.
We honored Hitler’s children
- but Hitler had no children -
Yes – he did
The ones he killed
The ones not perfect enough
For Aryan perfection
His numbers far exceed
That of our best mass murderers.
The talk was of work,
Most company names
I recognized.
In groups of red, yellow and blue
They were nicely martialed
To have their moment on the stage
To let them know
How much we loved them
How much we honored:
Their work
Their struggle
Their silent contribution
These children - adults –
Of the Fuhrer’s
Death wish
On a sea
Where waves of thanks
Issued from their lips
These children of another world's fuhrer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem