Mourir A Madrid

Wir zogen übers weite Meer
ins fremde Spanierland
Wir jagten sie wie eine Herde
und der Teufel, der lachte dazu:
Ha ha ha ha ha!
They have tried to soothe us once more;
with the scent of flowers, ranks and whores.
They have tried to make this world hope for us;
make it glow, again, for us.
They have offered this peace, with consciousness appeased;
of satisfied appetites,
of pleasures doomed and brief.
And they made me a liar,
they named you a thief.
And they doused our sacred fires and nailed their colours to the mast of the
opressed and thus put them to rest, forever.
Red, with anger;
at so much beauty.
They declared themselves the lords of memory,
the lords of envy.
And yet, they soon will have to retire and die; exiled from glory.
And Madrid, shall rise again.
Be free.