• Do not weep, maiden. For war is kind.
    Because your lover threw hands toward the sky.
    And the frightened steed ran on alone.
    Do not weep, war is kind.

    Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment!
    Little souls who thirst for fight.
    These men were born to drill and die!
    An unexplained glory flies above them.
    Great is the battle-god GREAT!
    And his kingdom... a field where a thousand corpses lie...

    Do not weep, babe. For war is kind.
    Because your father tumbled in the yellow trenches.
    Raged at his breast, gulped... and died.
    Do not weep, war is kind.

    Swift blazing flag of the regiment!
    Eagle with crest of red and gold.
    These men were born to drill and die!
    Point to them the virtue of slaughter.
    Make plain to them the execellence of killing!
    And a field where a thousand corpses lie...

    ...Mother...whose heart hung humble as a button
    on the bright, splendid shroud of your son.
    Do not weep, war is kind.