Why does it seem wrong? Itís all still the same: The skyís still as blue and as bright! Yes, the trees are the same, the breeze and water the same, But he has not come back from the fight. I just donít recall who was wrong who was right In those rows that went on through the night. But I just miss him now, now that heís not in sight - And he hasnít come back from the fight. Sometimes heíd sing out of tune. Sometimes not a peep. Or sometimes it was just empty prattle! Heíd never let me sleep - heíd a dawn date to keep... But now heís not come back from the battle. Thereís nothing at all - no more talk I know... We were two here before - yes thatís right! Yes, the wind is to blame, we lost our campfireís flame... No, he did not come back from the fight. And now theyíve burst out, like a captive from jail - Those words escaped in the night: "Friend, roll me a smoke!" But silence prevails. No, he hasnít come back from the fight. Though the fallen have gone, theyíre our true sentries; They wonít leave us alone in our pain... The sky shines off the trees as it shines off the seas, Turning the forest deep blue again. In that damp, narrow trench, there was space for us two; There was space for time to take flight. Iím alone here, itís true. But seems itís me and not you Who didnít come back from the fight.
© John Farndon + Olga Nakston. Translation, 2022
© Anthony Cable. Performance, 2022