8. Mai 1945 - Saad's Son
Saad's Son
From Africa you were brought.
They marched you straight into hell
For France you fought
In Normandy you fell.
Britain dug you a grave.
To rest with her own
Too young and too brave
At least not resting alone
Your life you gave
They gave you a stone.
I guess you had no children of your own,
You were just a boy when you went to the war.
So at least you have never known
How France would call your grand-children "pied noir",
And that grandchildren of those, whom your sacrifice freed
Don't find them worthy to clean up their street.
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