The sun shines –

yet the homeland secretly cries…

Frightening the night over the land –

like an iron hand;

Disaster threatens from all sides –

“heroes of the night” their empire prepares;

leadened are the paralyzed hours,

hopeless people’s wounds;

pale grief on deserted streets –

alas! alas! they left the homeland…

Anxious premonitions urged: hurry! hurry!

The homeland nervously flees: Stay…

here, where your cradle stands,

prevails your mother’s hand;

your daily meal with much trouble and bother –

Bless innumerable contributions

Your ancestor’s offertory procession flows into a dead song…

Tearful sacrifices – goblet of the times,

will accompany you in the future…

“Motherland”, so bitterly distant –

your souls yearning stars

wake up in need and fright

Rescue! Last hope walks;

Homeland has been cursed!

Migrating flock – flee to the north…

People’s souls sink in the night –

If they will wake up each day?

~ Andreas Thuro, Sr.