Het Wijnglas

In the evening we read the newspapers

About what happenend on the front:

Hundreds fallen in combat

Thousands more wounded.

So many children without their father

So many mothers without their child.

And we ask ourselves when

will the slaughter end.

But in the morning - oh what a joy,

We read the morning newspapers:

About a banquet in one of the larger capitals

Where '* made a toast

To the prosperity of his country.

Where the war was won

With a wineglass in his hand!

In the evening we read the newspapers:

Yet another ship torpedoed.

So many men put to sea

So few but did return.

So many tons of grain lost

So many mouths without bread.

So many women, so many children

Closer to death from starvation.

But in the morning - what a joy,

We read the morning papers:

Of a rich and stately banquet

In one of the larger capitals.

Where ...* made a toast

To his famished country

And praised ...*

With a wineglass in his hand!

Every day new misery,

new poverty, new mourning

Every day our trust in humankind

Catches a blow.

In fear we ask ourselves

How much longer this rage of war must go on

Which of Satan's ambassadors

Is governing our world?

Gravely the diplomats set off,

To their feast and banquet.

Satan put himself as pourer

At the head of the table

Where he fills with a grinn,

Each time to the brim

With the red blood of mankind

The willing wineglasses in their hands!