Let me wind wreaths around your pedestal
from immortelles and periwinkles!
Never will the omnipotence of your throne fade,
and to wrest the scepter from your hand
is hot but futile effort.

You do not blink like Themis through the bandage,
you do not distinguish between left and right;
the Millionaire and the Proletenkinde
Put in the diapers you your bindings
regardless of person or sex.

How great, if you, of oxen and camels
surrounded, where you hang in love,
Politicians and German generals,
who especially recommend your favor,
give the full sun to your grace!

Hail him, you with blessed hands
in exuberance, to benedein;
according to the Bible, he will once land in heaven,
on earth are the biggest dividends
(Potatoes, as we said earlier) be!

You never managed to defend yourself
your shield is protected against slash and bump.
And could this world spare you?
Oh let me worship you in devotion,
for yours is kingdom and might and glory!

1926, 18 Tyll