Phils Philos » Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling

„Worte sind die mÃ¤chtigste Droge, welche die Menscheit benutzt.“

Hymn bevor battle
The Earth is full of anger, The Seas are dark with wrath, The Nations in their harness, Go up, against our path: Ere yet, we lose the Legions Ere yet, we draw the blade Jehova of the thunders, Lord God of battles, aid!	Die Erde ist voll WÃ¼ten, Die Meere dunkel von Zorn, Die VÃ¶lker in blanker Wehr, Sie stellen (sich) uns in den Weg. Doch bevor wir Legionen entfesseln Doch eh‘ noch die Klinge wir zieh’n Jehova, Herr des Donners, Herr der Schlachten hilf!
High lust and forward bearing, Proud heart, rebellious brow — Deaf ear and soul uncaring, We seek Thy mercy now! The sinner that forswore Thee, The fool that passed Thee by, Our times are known before Thee Lord, grant us strength to die!	Vermessenheit und DÃ¼nkel, Stolzes Herz, rebell’scher Sinn, Taubes Ohr und blinde Seele, Erfleh’n wir Gnade fÃ¼rderhin. Der SÃ¼nder, der dir abschwor‘ Der Narr, der dich verriet, Herr, du kennst es unser Leben, gib fÃ¼r den Tod uns Kraft
For those who kneel beside us At altars not Thine own, Who lack the lights that guide us, Lord, let their faith atone! If wrong we did to call them, By honour bound they came; Let not Thy Wrath befall them, But deal to us the blame.	FÃ¼r die, die neben uns knien, An AltÃ¤ren, die nicht Dein, Die ohne das Licht sind, das uns leitet, Um ihren Glauben willen, Herr, verzeih. Und wenn es falsch war sie zu rufen, Ihre Ehre wars, die zu uns sie trieb Herr verschone sie mit deinem Zorn, Die Schuld, sie komm‘ auf unser Haupt
From panic, pride, and terror Revenge that knows no rein — Light haste and lawless error, Protect us yet again, Cloke Thou our undeserving, Make firm the shuddering breath, In silence and unswerving To taste Thy lesser death.	Vor Angst und Stolz und Feigheit, Vor Rache ohne jeglich maÃŸ, BeschÃ¼tz‘ uns wiederum auf’s Neue. Vergib uns, wenn auch wir es nicht verdienen, Mach unser’n Atem fest, wenn wir auch zittern Und lass uns schweigend, Mit erhob’nem Haupt, Den sicher’n tot erdulden.
E’en now the vanguard gathers, E’en now we face the fray — As Thou didst help our fathers, Help Thou our host today. Fulfilled of signs and wonders, In life, in death made clear — Jehovah of the Thunders, Lord God of Battles, hear!	Schon sammelt sich die Vorhut, Schon stellen wir uns zum Gefecht, So wie du halfst den VÃ¤tern vor uns, So Herr, hilf uns auch heut‘. ErfÃ¼llt von Zeichen und von Wundern, Im Leben, wie auch im Tod. Jehova, Herr des Donners, Herr Gott der Schlachten, hilf

If
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream — and not make dreams your master; If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ‚em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: „Hold on!“
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings — nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds‘ worth of distance run — Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And — which is more — you’ll be a Man, my son!