Hier Starben für Deutschland

Occident I

We are still the fate of the world and alive
No need to lament our lot.
The mercenary fellows who credit only the foreign and false

Should hold their tongues,
Were our mothers whores, then —
That pride in our heritage should be contemptible?

Wherever greatness is still great and deed acknowledged
Never shall majesty be cowardly hypocritical.
For if Alexander was magnificient, Caeser powerful,
Plato wise and Achilles beautiful
Where would power, wisdom and magnificence,
Fame and beauty be found, if we did not have them —
We, the blond heirs to the Staufers and Ottonians.


Occident II

I love to delve into old tales of heroes
And feel akin to such noble deeds
And blood crowned with fame.

I could not do without the olden days
Where would I look to see my life
If not in the lives of the noblest?

For this I love the great men of bygone days
Under their spell barely palpably growing in will
No less born of God.



Como nunca é demais esquecê-los, e como o meu cunhado acabou de chegar de Berlim (danke pelas fotografias, Vasco), aqui ficam a perpétua coroa de flores no Bendlerblock e dois poemas escritos por Claus Stauffenberg em 1923 (aos 16 anos de idade, portanto) para o seu irmão Berthold. RIP