Fuer Eure und Unsere Freiheit

Black dreams cover the pale night
where death’s head reigns, and rain
falls heavy and cold behind the wire.

Drowning in the mud stands a
spirit in red, and meagre rags,
flanked by the bitter of struggle.

Darkness spread beyond the gate –
twisted steel, with a taunt –
over factories once bright with flags,

through the streets once echoing with peace,
among the houses where once languages
met together to celebrate and pray.

Where once a fist was raised and
a man stepped forward to lead,
where the people moved with him.

Drowning in the mud stands a
spirit in red, and meagre rags,
flanked by the bitter of struggle.

ernst-thalmann

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