Okay, off-topic (or is it? this is the kind of stuff I listen to for inspiration), but this song is such a banger
impromptu translation:
The legend of the dead soldier - Summer 1918
And as the war in its fourth spring Did not have a prospect for peace The soldier drew his conclusion And died a hero's death.
But the war wasn't over yet So the Emperor felt sorry: That his soldier died Felt too soon to him.
Summer moved about the graves And the soldier was already asleep There, one night, came a military medical commission.
The medical commission went to the graveyard And, with a blessed spade, Dug out the fallen soldier.
The doctor thoroughly inspected the soldier Or what was left of him And the doctor found that the soldier was ready to serve And just dodging the danger.
And they immediately took the soldier with them The night was blue and beautiful If you didn't wear a helmet You could see the stars of home.
They poured strong booze Into his decayed body And put two nurses in his arms And a half-naked woman.
And since the soldier stinks of decay A priest limps in front Who waves a censer above him So he can't stink.
Forward the music Plays a lively march And the soldier, as he has learned, Throws his legs from his ass [marches quickly]
And brotherly hugging him Go two medics Otherwise he might fall into the dirt And that can't happen.
They drew on his shroud The colours black-white-red And carried it in front of him; The colours covered up the feces.
A gentleman in a tailcoat also walked in front With a stiffened chest He, as a German man, Was precisely aware of his duty.
So with music they walked Down the dark highway And the soldier staggered with them Like a snowflake in a storm.
The cats and dogs cry The rats in the field whistle wildly: They don't want to be French Because that's a disgrace.
And when they move through the villages All the women were there Trees bowed, the full moon was shining And everything yelled: 'Hurrah!'
With music and goodbyes! And woman and dog and priest! And in the midst the dead soldier Like a drunken ape.
And when they move through the villages Nobody saw him So many were around him With music and Hurrah.
So many danced and cheered around him That nobody saw him He could only be seen from above And there are only stars there.
The stars are not always there There comes a morning's red But the soldier, as he's learned Marches to a hero's death.
