| Hier ist die engl. Übersetzung des Wader-Text: Far in the Champagne in midsummer green there where poppy flowers bloom between grave crosses there the grasses whisper and shake themselves effortlessly in the wind, which gently sweeps over the graveyard At your cross I find dead soldier, not your name, only numbers and someone has painted the number 1916, and you were not even 19 years old. Yes, they have also already deceived you similarly just as they do with us still today, and you have given them everything : your strength, your youth, your life. Have you dead soldier, once loved a girl? Surely not, because only here, where there is peace, could tenderness and trust flourish, were a soldier, about to die, not be too young. Perhaps you thought to yourself, I will fall soon, I will take my pleasure, as it comes, with force. To this end you were determined, you have however then been ashamed of yourself and never did it. Yes, they have also already deceived you similarly just as they do with us still today, and you have given them everything : your strength, your youth, your life. Soldier, did you go believing and gladly to your death? or have you too doubtfully, bitterly, roughly not recognized your true enemy until the end? I hope it hit you a clean shot? Or has a bullet torn your limbs to pieces, have you cried out to your mother until the last, have you on your leg stumps run further, and your grave, does it hold more than a leg, a hand? Yes, they have also already ... |
