Gingen wir doch, öfter als die Schuhe die Länder wechselnd / Durch die Kriege der Klassen, verzweifelt / Wenn da nur Unrecht war und keine Empörung. (B. Brecht: „An die Nachgeborenen“)
refuse, refuse entire bits of me,
give me a feed for homeless homicide!
not that i’ve sought, what you sincerly seek,
who’s given up for sakes of homeland site.
behold, behold, where i have gone to hell,
just seeking what should be a paradise.
cause, where i’ve gone to find a shelter’s shell
as refugee. and not my own surprise
was only bad like starving employee
won’t give you, what entire man deserves:
not even more a sentence up to flee,
but friendship, health and safer dignity
than from where i have fled and gone, preserves
me from the hostile gangs’ hostility.
