The Election Donkeys

The Election Donkeys
by Heinrich Heine

[This article is translated from the German on the Internet, https://das-blaettchen.de/2025/02/die-wahlesel-71083.html]


In the end, people grew tired of freedom,

And the republic of animals

Desired that a single ruler

Rule it absolutely.

Every animal species gathered,

Ballots were written;

Party spirit raged terribly,

Intrigues were hatched.

The committee of donkeys was

Ruled by old long-ears;

They had their heads adorned with a cockade,

Black, red and gold.

There was a small party of horses,

But they didn't dare vote;

They were afraid of the shouting

Of the old long-ears, the grim ones.

But when someone recommended the candidacy

Of the steed, with a shout

An old long-ear interrupted him,

And shouted: “You're a traitor!

You're a traitor, there's not

A drop of donkey blood in you.

You're not a donkey, I hardly believe,

You were thrown by a foreign mare.

You may be descended from a zebra, your skin

Is zebra-striped;

Your voice's nasal sound

Sounds quite Egyptian-Hebrew.

And if you weren't a stranger, you are still just

a cold-hearted donkey;

You don't know the depths of a donkey's nature,

you don't know its mystical psalter.

But I immersed my soul completely

in that sweet dung;

I am a donkey, in my tail

every hair is a donkey.


The fathers are not dead! In the grave

Only their skins lie,

The mortal covers. From heaven down

They look at us with pleasure.

Transfigured donkeys in the glory light!

We always want to be the same

And never from the path of duty

Only a finger's breadth to deviate.

Oh, what bliss to be a donkey!

A grandson of such long-eared animals!

I want to shout it from the rooftops:

I was born a donkey.

The great donkey who begot me

was of German stock;

My mother, the mamma, suckled me on German donkey's milk.

I am a donkey, and true to

how my fathers, the ancients,

I will stick to the old, dear donkey business,

to donkeyishness.

And because I am a donkey, I advise you

To elect a donkey as your king;

We will found the great donkey kingdom,

Where only the donkeys command.

We are all donkeys! I-A! I-A!

We are not grooms.

Away with the horses! Long live, hurrah!

The king of the donkey family!

Thus spoke the patriot. In the hall,

The asses applaud.

They were all national,

And stamped with their hooves.

They have adorned the speaker's head

With an oak wreath.

He thanked him silently, and overjoyed
He wags his tail.

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