Kiri kaevikust
LoitsTuletrompetid huikasid hukku.
Mu muusika tabas kaht meest.
Üks vaikides vajus, teine karjudes kukkus.
Punkrihämaras 'tattnina' leek
Lõppenud lahing, mis äsja veel kees.
Mu naril oigab haavatud koolivend,
Vaenlase mundris vangi langenud mees.
Äng rindu ei mahu, pressib end üles,
Silmisse pisaraiks ja kurku kisaks.
Hääbuvad lahkuja viimased sõnad:
'see teine seal väljal oli mu isa...'
[a letter from the trenches (on the fratricide war)]
Fire around me, fire within.
Trumpets of fire hailed doom.
My music befell two men.
One silently sank the other went down screaming.
In the gloom of the bunker burns a crude petroleum lamp.
The battle, freshly furious, has already ended.
On my cot moans a wounded schoolmate,
A man who fell prisoner in enemy uniform.
The breast is too small for the angst that rises
As tears in eyes, roar in throat.
The words of the departing one fade:
'the man outside was my father.'