My short life long was an abundance of poverty.

God, oh God in Heaven, hear my prayers.
To you I cry as I did in my childhood.
Why did my poor father not trample on me
as I lay in blissful sleep
within my mother's womb?
Now I am old, a grey-haired, deaf old hag.

My short life long was an abundance of poverty
Oh God, what great toil for a tiny scrap of bread
For peace I cried into the great wars
And what have I achieved?
Soon I shall die.

Oh God,
grant that Communism triumphs!

A quick prayer:
Grant that my beloved Wolf does not end up
behind barbed wire as his father did.
Grant that his troubled mind turns once again
to the Party that disowned him.

And grant me our peaceful state over there
be so rich and free that nobody runs off anymore,
and if then they take down the wall
Granny Meume can fly to heaven blissfully.
Not in vain has she always relied on you.

Then, dear God,
shall Communism triumph too.

(Wolf Biermann, dissident communist and "class traitor")

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