The Subscriber

When I previously read my newspaper
Published in Utrecht
About Master Nation and Master Race
It was a pleasure to live.

One already felt like a ruler
And was quite content
Is England still strong? Don’t be foolish
Child’s play for the Axis.

I read of German triumph
And the ravaged London
And soon we will cross the channel,
How I devoured it all.

We’ll be drinking tea in London soon,
Too good to be true,
Sailing to England wasn’t easy,
Obstacles have arisen.

It turned out very differently than I thought,
It didn’t go as planned,
And Hitler with all his might
Crawled back very quietly.

Now it’s a struggle for survival
Imposed by England,
Now one must fight or perish,
So much has been negotiated.

My newspaper has much less to say,
Blows its horn less from the tower,
Still, I can replace that
By hearing Radio London.

The roles are now reversed,
The forces have changed,
No longer fighting with umbrellas,
Now fighting with armies.

The chance for Germany is minimal,
It will likely lose,
And those who were intimate with the Krauts,
Are already packing their bags.

And I am merely a subscriber
Of Mussert’s newspaper,
That will probably not be easy soon,
And that thought burns you.

When I now read “Volk en Vaderland”
I feel a bit chilly,
Because soon it will prove to be an expensive paper,
Which I kept that way.

It promised me so much
And gave me so little,
One believed in the writing,
And soon it will cost you your life.

If today someone tells something
Of Hitler, blood, and soil,
I am no longer interested,
I would rather strike him half dead.

If I wouldn’t have had the newspaper,
I shouldn’t have to die,
When fascism touches your doorstep,
It will ruin you.

And if one day I go against the wall,
On my grave it will read:
He died because of “Volk en Vaderland“,
But now he is healed.