Classic Poem

I. HOLY EVE

The bell rings, rings, rings!
The whole city is ablaze with light,
Light dazzling as the heavens.
Even in the barracks the echoes ring,
Although it is all dark and quiet within.
One soldier alone stands in a ray of light;
He leans against a pillar sadly,
As if it were indeed his coffin.
He raises tearful eyes to Heaven,
As though he would entreat the stars:
The stars for him shine very brightly,
Gleam houses beautiful and merry.
Why then a heart so faint and weary
If there is naught to cause it anguish?
How can I know? ... I dare not ask him ...
See how his brows are frowning ever —
Who knows the trouble of the soldier?

II. IN CHURCH

S AD and quiet is the House of God,
Stillness holds all and is held there.
Only the old priest reads prayers from a book;
A lonely candle is dying fast.
From the walls the statues of gold
Look down with a wondering stare.

And on the stones, on the cold pavement,
What do I see?
A young, dead soldier resting in a coffin,
No sister lamenting, nor mother fainting with grief;
Just a candle, dropping its wax-like tears,
And the stare of the statues,
And the priest saying prayers for the dead,
A last kiss beseeching for the dead orphan;
But none goes to kiss him. And no one will.
The black cover is nailed on; the candle, melting, falls.
(No sister lamenting, nor mother fainting with grief!)
This is a soldier, an orphan — then who should mourn?