Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Thousandth Regiment - 28. "The sharp pings muffle from the springing shrapnel"
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27. Der helle Klang der springenden Schrapnelle
Ist im Gewölk und Abendrot verweht.
Aussteigt die Nacht wie eine graue Welle,
In der die laute Schlacht nun untergeht.
Nur selten ziehen noch in schrillen Strichen
Verirrte Kugeln her; man weiß nicht wie,
Als käm der Tod nun heimlich angeschlichen,
Der tags blutwild nach Hekatomben schrie.
Und was noch blieb, paar Dutzend Mann vielleicht,
Kriecht dicht an dicht, daß Herz am Herzschlag klopft
Und uns das bißchen Wärme alle tränkt.
Bis einer plötzlich still die Schläfe senkt
Und auf das Land, das weiß im Monde bleicht,
Sein rotes Leben schweigend niedertropft.
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27. The sharp pings muffle from the springing shrapnel
To get windswept by the clouds and sunset.
The night rises then like a cresting gray wave,
Causing the loud fighting to sink down too.
Yet sometimes, still trekked in high-pitched arching strokes,
Aberrant bullets strike; and you won't know
It's as if Death is creeping up secretly,
Whose daytime screams for blood off’ring’s not enough.
And they who remain, a few dozen men,
Huddle tight, so heart to heartbeat may throb,
And just a little warmth need soothe us all.
Until one jerks, mutely felling his head,
And onto a land bleached white by the moon,
Drips his red life-force away noiselessly.
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- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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