THE FUGITIVE

Yannos Ber from the north.
Can’t stand barbed wire
he takes heart, he takes flight
through the valley‘s villages.

Good woman, give me some bread
and clothes to change into
I have a long way to go
above lakes I must fly.

Wherever he stays
fall fear and terror
and a voice, a horrible voice cries
Hide from the fugitive!

I am no murderer, good Christians
nor a best who will devour you
I fled prison
to go home

Ah, what a deadly desert
in the land of Bertold Brecht
they deliver Yannos to the S. S.
who are now taking him to hid deth.

MAUTHAUSEN
The Fugitive
KAMBANELLIS IACOVOS