logoalt Hacker News

axpvms • yesterday at 4:27 PM • 1 reply • view on HN

Do not call me, father, do not seek me, Do not call me, do not wish me back.

We’re on a route uncharted, fire and blood erase our tracks. On we fly, on wings of thunder, never more to sheath our swords. All of us in battle fallen, not to be brought back by words.

Will there be a rendezvous? I know not. I only know we still must fight. We are sand grains in infinity, never to meet,never more see light.

Farewell then my son. Farewell then my conscience. My youth and my solace my one and my only.

And let this farewell be the end of a story, Of solitude vast and which none is more lonely. In which you remain,barred forever and ever, From light and from air,with your death pangs untold. Untold and unsoothed, not to be resurrected. Forever and ever, an 18 year old.

Farewell then, no trains ever come from those regions Unscheduled or scheduled, no aeroplanes fly there. Farewell then my son, for no miracles happen, As in this world dreams do not come true.

Farewell…

I will dream of you still as a baby, Treading the earth with little strong toes, The earth where already so many lie buried. This song to my son, is come to its close.

Son (Pavel Antokolsky, 1943)

Replies

tetris11 • yesterday at 9:27 PM

    At the starting of the week
    At summit talks you'll hear 
    them speak
    It's only Monday

    You could be sitting, 
    taking lunch
    The news will hit you like 
    a punch
    It's only Tuesday

    We'll all go running 
    underground
    And we'll be listening for 
    the sound
    It's only Wednesday

    You'll hear a whistling 
    overhead
    Are you alive or are you 
    dead?
    It's only Thursday

    Though that shelter is your 
    home
    The living space, you have 
    outgrown
    It's only Friday

    Tomorrow never comes until 
    it's too late
Six Day War (Colonel Bagshot)