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.
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
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)