Dienstag, 18. November 2014

Das Lied von 'jenem' Mann


0,Mutter,sag' du mir die Wahrheit 
0 mother tell you me the truth
Was ist das für ein Mann, schau ihn dir an,
er schreit wie am Spieß
von Ehre, Kampf und unserer Nation
0, Mutter sag:
Was ist Nation?
0, Mutter, sag' du mir die Wahrhelt
0 mother tell you me the truth
Was ist das fUr ein Mann, schau ihn dir an,
er schreit wie am Spieß
von Arbeit, Stolz und unserem Ruhm
0, Mutter, sag
Was ist das Ruhm?
0, Mutter, sag' du mir die Wahrhelt
0 mother tell you me the truth 
Wie er dort steht und lauthals sohreit
von Stärke und Gerechtigkeit
0, Mutter, sag
Was meint er mit Gerechtigkeit?
0, Mutter, sag du mir die Wahrheit 
0 mother tell you me the truth 
Warum laufen alle hinter ihm her 
er sprioht niemals
von Freiheit, Gleichheit und Liebe
0, Mutter sag:
Was hat er vor?

0, Mutter, ich sag dir die Wahrhelt
0, mother I tell you the truth 
Dieser Mann, er hetzt und lügt 
und ioh hab Angst, daß er mal siegt

0, Mutter sag:
Wer bewahrt uns vor diesem Mann?
0, mother tell:
Who preserves us from this man?

Stockholm 1967
Geschrieben für Ernest Parham,
aber es war für ihn zu schwer zu singen,
weshalb ich ein zweites Lied auf Englisch schrieb
(siehe nächste Post)

Song of a millionaire

Einar Schlereth
SONG OF A MILLIONAIRE

Did you ever hear of a millionaire who lost his job?
Oh, I never did
He continues eating a la carte when all around
people are going to make the file
to get some work
or a piece of rotten bread.

Did you ever hear of a millionaire
who went to jail?
Oh I never did.
Do you know why?
Because he never does the slightest wrong
he always has the right ideas
he always votes for the strongest man
he always chooses the mightiest god
and always thinks of his safety first.

Did you ever hear of a millionaire
who went to war?
Oh I never did.
He is sitting on a secure place
when all around
people are starting to cry
going to die
they don't know why
well it is no lie
that a millionaire
never fails
while you are a flop
out of the mob.

Did you ever hear of a millionaire
who broke his heart?
Oh, I never did
when all around
people are bound
by famine, torture and terror.
And if you run
to claim your rights from the millionaire
he will spit you in your sweaty face
all his disgust with a lot of grace.

But never mind
he is a kind
of a slippery leech
who can't get aware
and can not share
the pains and torments  
of all his victims.

Einar Schlereth
Stockholm 1967

This song was written for black-american Ernest Parham and 1967
performed by him at a famous jazz club in downtown Stockholm.