I
O, this world of wars and ours!
Nobody knows the time and hour
When beings would be torn asunder.
Our bodies sink- our souls tower!
Often we hear the shrill voice wisdom
Deep down our hearts of boredom;
But do the words, we seldom;
Instead, we abuse our ill-freedom.
Why do your cheeks rain red-tears
And your kids lick lice without wears?
Ours isn’t replete with sweet pears;
Stone in your heart to let the loss bear!
Our world isn’t nectar but sharp pains;
Our veins run blood only but in vain.
One we see today, we’ll see not again;
We walk not on a rail but a bumpy lane.
II
O, this world of wars and ours!
We’re just like beautiful flowers,
Which in the morning are brighter,
But when the sun kisses they wither.
Or like crops that in season blossom;
But in wintry weather look loathsome.
Once and again, souls go never to come
Again; some were friends- so bosom!
Our world blows the wind of fear;
Think of how some pause and disappear
And nothing- nothing could we hear
Of them, in this our veil of tears.
If your world and mine be very plain;
That no breath shall ever be slain.
Ours would be free from the sins of Cain;
Where not war but only peace reigns
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