I wish I were a fakir,
Then I would certainly be pleased
In these times of war
However much the Gestapo searched for me,
She didn‘t find me, she was deceived,
Misled by sorcery.
I did, if I were a fakir,
Hocus pocus pilatus pas
And became plain air
Etherically I am dissolved,
Which costs me very little effort
And the Gestapo sighs.
As a Fakir, I would be
Completely gone and invisible
No matter how much they search for me,
I lead her astray
They don‘t find me, they don’t find me,
Because I‘m vanished.
They search and sniff everywhere
And don’t find me and that‘s great,
I smile as I watch
The Gestapo searches here, searches there
And doesn‘t find me, I‘m a Fakir,
They search themself until the point of exhaustion.
They look carefully around,
I know exactly, if they found me,
Then I would be send to my doom,
It‘s quite a delight for me,
Because the Gestapo searches frantically
And yet has no success.
Finally, I’ve had enough
Of all that searching and toiling,
Then a new trick comes,
I say to a friend: Listen, my dear,
I’ll take my wartime nap
And fool the Krauts.
Hermetically I close my eyes
My body and weight become stiff
He puts me in a coffin
And then digs a hole in the garden
And I stay there, it’s quite something!,
My wartime winter rest
And when the war is over
And the Netherlands are free again
Then I would come out.
Unfortunately, I’m not a Fakir,
That I’m not, it makes me sad
And is a dire fate.
Audio Player
[Music: Udio Beta / Prompting: Q Kreativgesellschaft, Wiesbaden]
Post-Editing: Sylvia Stawski, Ernst Sittig
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