When your mother has grown older,
And you have grown older,
When what was formerly easy and effortless
Now becomes a burden,
When her dear loyal eyes
Do not look out into life as before,
When her legs have grown tired
And do not want to carry her anymore –
Then give her your arm for support,
Accompany her with gladness and joy.
The hour will come when weeping, you
Will accompany her on her last journey!
And if she asks you, answer her.
And if she asks again, speak also.
And if she asks another time, speak to her
Not stormily, but in gentle peace!
And if she cannot understand you well,
Explain everything joyfully;
The hour will come, the bitter hour
When her mouth asks for nothing more!

©Adolf Hitler | Hitler by John Toland | 1976.

Photo credit: The Wait and the Reward, a painting by Anna Rose.

This poem was written in a dingy room at a sober hour, reflecting on his mother and her tragic death. Without a doubt, the author was the most influential figure of the twentieth century; more prominent than Lenin, the Stasi, or Mao Tse-tung, his terrifying legacy disrupted so many lives and instilled so much hatred. For a man with a heart of stone (as many ascribe him), he had a spot for his mother, whom he revered; indeed, a mother’s love is weightier than the fiercest hurricane. Think of it while we all wish our mothers the best!

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