Erhard Hans Josef Lang (January 8,1957 / Günzburg/Danube Germany)
From Out Of My Heart... (translation with original)
From out of my heart I despise
Each and every slave of material matters
Who out of greed into the
Country's provision sheds even collects the maggots
And who regardless of the country's state of need
Goes about with loads of gold on his shoulders
and sighs out of being troubled.
And bad I say to be him who,
Fatherland on his lips
And pretending love,
But only searches for his reputation,
And, like an empty head of cereal ears,
Only strives for heaven,
But produces no fruit.
But he shall get my curses,
Who out of the breast of his fatherland
Sips the sap, the life
And power from out of his people,
And if miserable they have become
Only sits in the lap of pleasures
And derides the one who's bearing him.
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