When I was little I went to school
and I learned what’s mine and what’s yours.
And when all had been learned,
it seemed to me that wasn't all.
For I had no breakfast myself,
but others they had plenty to eat,
And thus in the end I did learn why
they call him the class enemy.
And I learned why and how come
there’s a rift throughout this world.
And it stays between us as rain falls
down from the sky to the earth.
And they told me: if I am good,
then I’ll soon be just like them.
But I thought: If I’m their sheep now,
a butcher I’ll never become.
And I saw that some among us
took and swallowed their bait.
And when theirs was the lot that was mine and yours,
they wondered at their fate.
As for me, I wasn’t astonished,
I’d realized it early on:
The rain flows downward in torrents
and doesn’t flow skyward at all.
I heard the drums beat in nineteen-fourteen
and all of them spoke as one:
"Now’s the time to be waging wars
for a little place in the sun."
And many hoarse voices promised us
heaven and earth in good time.
And fat-bellied bigwigs
shouted: "Don’t give up the fight now!"
And we thought: it’s a matter of hours,
then we’ll have this and that.
But the rain once more fell downwards,
and for four years we bit the dust.
And suddenly they told people:
"We're going to have a Republic!
And in it all men will be equal,
no matter if they’re thin or fat."
And those feeble from hunger and ill
were never as hopeful as then.
But those who’d eaten their fill,
were full of hope like them.
And I said, "something's not right here"
and was filled with dismal doubts:
It doesn’t add up that the rain is
supposed to flow up, not down.
They gave us ballots for voting,
we turned our weapons in.
They gave us words of promise,
and our rifles we gave them.
And they said: "those who understand it,
they will now help us and assist."
We should just get to work and
they would take care of the rest.
I let them move me again
and stayed quiet as they had asked
and thought: that’s so nice of the rain
that it wants to flow upwards now.
Not much later I heard it said that
now all is put right and done.
If the lesser evil we now supported,
The greater good would soon come.
And we swallowed that cleric Brüning,
as Papen filled us with concern.
And we swallowed the Junker Papen
so it wouldn’t be Schleicher’s turn.
And the cleric gave it to the Junker,
and the Junker to the general.
And the rain was falling downward,
and the flood was biblical.
While our ballots we were clutching,
they closed down factories.
While outside the dole office sleeping,
we left them all in peace.
We heard such promising phrases:
"Keep calm! Be patient and wait!
After a big downturn
comes an even bigger boom!"
And so I told my colleagues:
"Thus speaks the class enemy!
When he speaks of a good time,
it’s his time that he means."
Rain can’t suddenly fall up,
being benevolently inclined,
but what it can do is: it can stop
once the sun comes out and shines.
One day I saw them marching,
with new flags, intrepidly.
And many among us saw and said:
"There’s no more class enemy."
But I saw in their vanguard
many a familiar face
and I heard them once more, yelling
in that old drill sergeant voice.
Still, through the flags and the festivities,
day and night the rain poured down.
And those who could all feel it
were those lying on the ground.
They diligently practiced shooting
and spoke loudly of enemies.
They pointed wildly across the border
But who they meant was you and me.
For us and they, we are foes
and only one of us can win this war.
For they live off of us and will die
if we don’t slave for them anymore.
And it is for that very reason
you mustn’t let it astound
if they throw themselves at us, like the rain does
throw itself upon the ground.
Those of us who starved to death,
It was in battle that they died.
And for those who died in our midst,
the word murder can be applied.
The one who was taken by gunmen
had not liked starving to death.
The one whose jaw they kicked in
had asked for a piece of bread.
The one whom they promised the bread
is now hunted as their prey.
The one they bring in the coffin
had dared words of truth to say.
And all who believed when they said
they were friend and not foe
had thus also expected
rain to fall up from below.
For we are class enemies,
whatever they all may say:
Those of us who didn’t dare to fight
dared to starve another day.
We’re class enemies, drummer!
This can't be covered up by your noise!
Factory owner, general and junker —
our enemy, that’s you!
None of this will be made right,
and none of it repaired!
The rain doesn’t fall to the sky,
we don’t ask it to rise through air.
Your painter may ceaselessly paint,
this rift won’t be painted over!
One must yield and the other one stays,
it is either me or you.
And whatever I have yet to learn,
these are my ABCs:
Nothing I’ll ever have in common
with the cause of the class enemy.
No word you will ever find
that can unite both you and me!
The rain falls down from on high.
And you are my class enemy.
[Original German lyrics by Bertolt Brecht]
Several different events happened in 1917. He could also be referring to the failed Kornilov coup. He could be referring to the forced abdication of the Tsar and the establishment of Kerensky's provisional government. But given that we know that he is an anti-communist and despises Lenin the likeliest option is that he means the October revolution and the subsequent signing of Brest-Litovsk which is viewed by Russian nationalists as a sort of stab in the back as they believe they were winning and that was a needless capitulation.