Only the person who has lacked it for a long time
Can appreciate freedom,
Knows how to gloat over it,
Keeps it doubly precious and costly.
The person who had to suffer in vassalage
And in darksome dungeon,
Only that one honors the joys of freedom
Because it tastes doubly sweet for him.
The person whose sun will laugh
After dark years of prison,
Imagines to rise heavenwards
From the gloomy night of hell,
Feels revived from the grave,
Feels that he actually lives for now.
Free from bonds, free from shackles,
No one to tremble for,
Without fear and without jittering,
Without the tyranny of terror,
Which only fills life with bitterness,
One feels finally: I am free.
Free is more than money and goods,
Even more than daily bread.
So be freedom’s guards,
‘Cause the unfree one is – dead.
Post-Editing: Tom Rieke
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