Strung like puppets,
To the voice,
Of angry evil,
Wrong to be right,
And life to be exiled,
From spirits,
Of heavens desires,
While the jagged cross,
Consumes us all,
Spun by hands deft,
Then Hitler left.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nick. I really like this. It's a little creepy, as all things Hitler tend to be...but very, very effective.