The Silesian weavers

Text by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)

Translated into English by Joseph Massaad 

deutsch - français


No tears in their eyes, darkened by gloom,
They snarl, sitting by the loom:
Germany, we weave your shroud, bit by bit,
And it is the triple curse that we weave in it -
We are weaving, we are weaving!

A curse to the God, whom we used to pray
In the cold of winder, every hungry day;
We hoped in vain, we waited in vain,
He has mocked us, fooled us in our pain –
We are weaving, we are weaving!

A curse to the king, the king of the wealthy,
Who could not be moved by our misery,
Who squeezed from us our last penny,
And like dogs, let us be shot and die in agony –
We are weaving, we are weaving!

A curse to our fake country,
Where every flower gets snapped too early,
Where only shame and infamy can thrive,
Where rottenness and decay keep the worms alive –
We are weaving, we are weaving!

The shuttle flies, the loom crackles loud
Old Germany, we are weaving your shroud,
We weave day and night, we do not quit -
And it is the triple curse that we weave in it,
We are weaving , we are weaving!