For, in his lust for Power and Blood, He has destroyed himself. We cannot pray to God And do a wrong to them That stand quite equal in His love. 'Tis blasphemy to call on Him for aid In spreading Death and Pestilence 'Mongst those who are His own. Yet both were done In Prussia's fearsome name. The piteous cries From murder'ed infants' lips, Neath plagent wave, And from the butchered innocents who lay Beneath the shot-swept remnants Of their homes, Made Prussia's prayer The hideous thing it was and is, And e'er must be, till end of Time. For those in my fair land Who long for Peace, Whose lives were never marred by enmity, Who felt Oppressor's martil rule at home As keenly as opponents did abroad; For them I speak, not for the martinet. Theirs are the pleas that should be heard By him who holds their destinies In sacred trust; Then used them as his pawns. If in his soul no conscience finds its way To end the deeds so damnable, That have outraged a world, If touch of pity to him does not come, Then let the suffering of his own Call halt on his unbridled passion. The defeat, Now crushing swiftly to its certain goal, Shall not be less complete If he denies that call. A country blighted, through his act, Though free from alien host, No haven gives to him who, At the end of evil sway, Reading the signs, The sicken'd monk would play! Within, as well as from without, Shall come the penalty. No mother, weeping, crushed, Can well forgive him for her needless loss; The coming generation, taking note Of all the misery and pain he caused, Will curse his memory as of a fiend Who plunged a nation wantonly in ruin. Defet, and it is sure, for him who cast The die his downfall not alone Will bring about, But drag his country down as well The hand of Fate Writes cearly on the wall of History. He who believed himself above the law, Into its mesh shall fall And find a Majesty above his own. That which he, ruthlessly, Wuld have imposed upon a world, Shall be imposed on him. As whence it came, The homing bird returns, So shall the crimes, For which he sponsor stood, Come back to Prussia with relentless force. A calm may seemingly prevail When guns shall cease to roar. Again may men resume The tilling of the soil; The sun may shine on Prussian fields. Yet shall the breath of Hate Blow from the East, and West, And from the South. Since those of my own breed I know full well; Their arms, their hidden plans, Their real design, A danger warning I would sound to all The freemen of this land of liberty.
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20.03.2010 в 20:09-
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20.03.2010 в 20:13А Химаруя удивляет иногда так что аж ..
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20.03.2010 в 20:17-
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20.03.2010 в 20:17*надо учить английский, надо -_-*
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20.03.2010 в 20:23Да там вся книга такая...
Rokudan
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20.03.2010 в 20:31