Here in the noisy night
Is his delight.
Where maxims pour
Their thudding lead
Upon the ground
And on the shore.
He revels in the sound,
And lies among the dead.
Here where the sniper lies
Beneath the skies
In hungry wait;
And gasping shells
Disgorge red death.
This is his fate:
To love war’s rhythmic breath,
And war’s discordant knells.
Here on the parapet
His foes he met.
See where they sleep
In battered lines.
Here lies his bed
So long and deep,
And on his broken head
A shaft from Heaven shines.
(Leon Gellert)
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