An Easter egg used to cost
plus or minus two, three pennies,
These days it is a luxury
That many are unfamiliar with,
For many, an Easter egg became
something unattainable
And practically symbolic,
and a memory
Of earlier abundant times,
When things were still better
And one was not dominated
by the Herren master race.
This Henri Quat‘ of France
Once had a lovely plan:
Every week for every Frenchman
A soup chicken in the pot.
But Monsieur Adolf Hitler,
He managed something else,
An Easter without an Easter egg,
Is the experience this year
Of the great majority
Of the people of the Netherlands
And there is starvation,
This land in the hands of the Boches
Was looted poor and barren
And turned into a desert
Of sorrow and of hardship
Of fright and fear and pain
At Easter ‘45
We are still not yet free,
This year Dutch Easter
is without an egg.
And yet, Easter finds us
not without hope this year,
We feel that Adolf‘s rabble
will soon be on the run.
Although much was taken from us
By Krauts’ tyranny,
The resurrection will arrive
We know this and are thrilled.
Post-Editing: Hanny Veenendaal
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