And Goebbels wrote in those days,
In his rag “Das Reich”:
No, Germany need not despair,
The enemies won’t weaken us.
It almost went wrong,
Yes, it really was like that,
And Mussolini was imprisoned,
The defeat was already clear,
Then suddenly came the big turn,
We have freed Benito,
And now he fulfills his mission,
And calls on Italians to fight.
What a wonderful transformation,
The situation is now changed,
Badoglio’s actions were ruined,
The Allies are horrified.
Yes, we are joyful and cheerful again,
And have joyful courage again,
Since this war continues merrily,
And merrily the blood continues to flow.
Everything worked out well again,
We are still on top,
Benito is no longer imprisoned,
And is now entirely our man.
Yes, today we can say it,
Last week we felt queasy,
We could hardly bear it,
And saw the future blackish gray.
We saw the deep gaping abyss,
That the Führer brought us to,
We could feel lost,
Now it’s over, we thought.
We didn’t hear the Führer speak,
He remained uncomfortably silent,
He could not break his silence,
And the audience was anxious.
The nightmare is taken away,
Yes, thank God, it’s okay,
Today we feel like
A rider over Lake Constance.
And that it went well this time,
Fills us with confidence,
Even if it will cost a lot,
The final victory won’t escape us.
Thus, from a cake of misfortune,
The clever Bellachini Göbbels
Can look for a little lucky raisin,
He puts his handkerchief on it.
He murmurs his magic spells,
Of blood and soil, living space,
The fumes from his witch’s kitchen,
Still keep Germans in a dream.
He says: Heil Hitler, little swastika,
And the victory is bombproof,
And German people, just shut your snouts,
And bear up the Hitler war.
Then he takes his lucky raisin,
He inflates it with his mouth,
And in the end, it looks like
A bubble, shiny and round.
The beautiful big soap bubble,
Full of colorful fantasy,
He holds it under the people’s nose,
They see the Führer as a genius.
And they see how bad it was in former times,
And also how good they have it now,
The German race, chosen,
They are filled with illusions.
But the events are racing,
And many illusions are destroyed,
And Goebbels must blow harder,
He makes an incredible effort.
He overexerts his brain,
And thinks, how can I do it,
The sweat of fear is on his forehead,
And he keeps blowing.
But it’s all for the birds,
The fall cannot be stopped,
And one day the soap bubble
Will burst with a bang.
Post-Editing: Robert Saunders
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