How Shall I Sing Again

Scharmel Iris

Above the river Oise
And the fox-red field,
Gulls that flew over the Seine
Over the Oise come flying-
Calligraphy brushed across the sky.

In the pine-dark wood
No mandolin, no flute,
Only the peaceful dead
In naked silence lying
Found in the rubble of war
Darkened and dying.

My grief narrows my pride
All my bones crying pain.
Gulls flying over the dead and the Oise
Go flying over the Seine.
O dead mother how shall I sing again!