“Blood and Soil”

When Adolf came to power,
Darré became his minister,
He took the cream from your milk,
With fats, it was grim,

Yes, sweet cream butter, bacon, and lard,
They became scarce and rare,
You got a thin throat,
But did not dare to complain.

On the contrary, you showed yourselves
Very happy and content,
And praised the Third Reich highly,
And only the evil Jews

And Reds found it less lovely
And couldn’t be blinded,
They knew: Germany will see,
Such actions will end terribly.

Dirt piled high, filth piled high
In Adolf’s Third Reich,
Meanness prevailed over self-interest
And many became corpses.

But people sang about this Reich ideal
With ever-new odes,
And alongside the countless slogans
Came the one of “Blood and Soil.”

Darré brought much that was new,
He created the hereditary farmers,
It seemed that the NSDAP
Would last forever and ever.

They spoke of blood ties,
And spoke of noble race,
And that you are so Germanic,
And that Adolf Hitler hates

The one who wants to harm the people
And he would destroy him,
And all criticism fell silent,
One had to refrain from it.

Darré took care of agriculture
And provided nutrition.
They said it was going fabulously
While enduring hardship and deprivation.

You were worse than ever before,
But you couldn’t say it,
For if it came the Gestapo’s ear,
You would be beaten to death.

So you grew tired of phrases
And swastika slogans,
And what Germany didn’t yet have,
You wanted to get.

That is the food policy
Of Adolf and Darré,
There is no buts, no turning back,
It ends with the rifle.

The German people reached for the gun
And like a gang of robbers,
Ransacked and looted and invaded
Foreign lands.

Denmark’s butter, France’s wine,
The Russian grain,
They were all supposed to be yours,
It was a short-lived joy.

Because in the long run, it didn’t go well
With swastika methods,
Wasted is now the German blood,
And Germany is reduced to soil.