Can you?

Dedicado a EMH

Can you hear that little drops, 

falling down from the glomy sky,

out side the broken window

and wetting the ground, the grass?

Can you feel the cold wind

moving the trees, the clouds

with that dying breeze, that chills the skin

and the bones and only makes you cry?

Can you smell that aroma of dirt, 

dust and moisture of the dying leaves

that cover the roots of the old trees,

near the graveyard and the dark forest?

Can you taste the flavor of the blood, the smoke or the gunpowder

that permeate the air and the water

and that doesn't let you breathe?

Can you see the darkness of the night,

whitout moon and stars, and no light

in the middle of the loneliness

in this endless and cold night?

If you can, me too, you're not alone.

~Hans Speer