Es kann der Froemmste nicht in Frieden leben <br />wenn es dem boesen Nachbarn nicht gefaellt. <br />Warum muss es in dieser Welt den Unsinn geben <br />dass nur der gute Mensch im Ernst die Schnauze haelt. <br />Den boesen Nachbarn woll'n wir nun erschiessen <br />damit wird Frieden wieder hergestellt <br />mit meinen Traenen werde ich sein Grab begiessen <br />dort draussen auf dem ungenutzten stillen Feld. <br /> <br />Not the most pious can thus live in peace <br />if just one neighbour likes to have his war <br />why is it that we do adore the golden fleece <br />only the meek are silent, and the whore <br />that bastard of a human being we shall kill <br />thus peace may yet return for us at last <br />my tears shall fall upon his grave, so still <br />out there on barren fields of his own past. <br /> <br />The first two lines make up an old German saying. <br />I have added to it and translated (loosely) the lot. <br />For Tiffany, Masterpoet with Irish Eyes.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-speak/
