He waved his hand to wife and child
As tears welled from each eye;
The train whistled and soon moved on,
As he waved last good-bye!
The war for which he was ushered
Would leave ten-thousands dead;
He had to leave for country’s sake,
And kept his level-head.
He would not see his beloved’s face,
Nor talk to his one child;
His hand that yearned to touch them both
Would pull the trigger wild.
The hand he thought would pat shoulders
Was meant to kill with ease;
He cursed the day he heard that war
Had once more threatened peace.
A soldier’s life seems lovely when
Peace-time prevails on earth;
When war erupts, his life’s at stake,
He curses his own birth!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem