War Poetry

Corpses In The Priester Woods

A dung heap of rotting corpses:
Glazed eyes, bloodshot,
Brains split, guts spewed out
The air poisoned by the stink of corpses
A single awful cry of madness

Oh women of France,
Women of Germany
Regard your menfolk!
They fumble with torn hands
For the swollen bodies of their enemies,
Gestures, stiff in death, become the touch of brotherhood,
Yes they embrace each other,
Oh, horrible embrace!

I see and see and am struck dumb
Am I a beast, a murderous dog?
Men violated….
Murdered….

By Ernst Toller
Translated from the German by Peter Appelbaum

Nightmare

On a pole, rotten and foul
Squats the conscience of nations,
Three childrens’ bones dance around the pole
Broken from a young mother’s body.
A sheep bleats the rhythm bäh bäh.

By Ernst Toller
Translated from the German by Peter Appelbaum