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With the flour bitter and the oil and wine ruined. Nobody pulls us out of the hand of our enemy. Our persecutors step on our necks. Oh, we know our place, because the slave and servant reigns over us. Look, everything that we would have inherited is taken from us now. And soon the fields will also not be cultivated anymore. Therefore, the corn in the sheaf becomes scant.    

To faraway strange-man’s-land our volk rambled in migration. To go and become extinct without identity. On the gallows we are savagely and cruelly pulled up. In everything we are restricted, from the morning until the evening.  Man cannot tolerate these circumstances anymore. Therefore, the masses now become completely berserk in madness.  

With everything now upside-down and crazy. The finger is again accusingly pointing at the church. The world-order is standing ready with his trademark. As world-slaves the world-citizens will work for their powers until they die. The end-time table is standing set and ready. The feast-table is heavily loaded under loathsome muck.    

From the bitter cup of sorrow, the world-festivalgoers must now strengthen themselves. Yes, because everything was permeated with the big lie. Towns and cities are surrounded by gangs, in unrest. While the smoke of municipalities and shops rises up in the sky, the enemy stands ostensibly strong for a moment.  

The big madness does not know its end or limits anymore. There is no justice and a certain population group is harassed, provoked and tormented. The abomination now stands displayed in the once holy-place. Therefore, righten yourself and flee to your shelter at Mount Sion. Take shelter there under the wing of the Most High. He Alone is and will stay your Salvation, know that He makes you strong.