Excellent links, Marianne. 
The Silesian Weavers
From darkened eyes no tears are falling:
With gritted teeth we sit here calling:
“Germany, listen, ere we disperse,
We weave your shroud with a triple curse-
We weave! We are weaving!
“A curse to the false god that we prayed to,
And worshipped in spite of all, and obeyed, too.
We waited, and we hoped and suffered in vain;
He laughed at us, sneering, for all of our pain-
We weave! We are weaving!
“A curse to the king, and a curse to his coffin,
The rich man's king whom our plight could not soften;
Who took our last penny in taxes and cheats'
And let us be shot like dogs in the streets-
We weave! We are weaving!
“A curse to the Fatherland, whose face is
Covered with lies and foul disgraces;
Where the bud is crushed before it can seed'
And the worm grows fat on corruption and greed-
We weave! We are weaving!
“The shuttle flies in the creaking loom;
And night and day we weave our doom.
Old Germany, ere we disperse,
We weave your shroud with a triple curse.
We weave! We are weaving!
O Heine, when the weavers finished,
The workers’ plight lay undiminished.
They only found a new Asura:
The cold, corrupt Nomenklatura.
Sie woben, sie woben!