A crate of weapons hidden under the moon

Don’t forget me, I will win the war, wait for me.

The explosives have been buried under the sand,

The fields sparkle, the night takes me in its bosom,

A singer rains patriotic notes

Don’t forget me, I’ll win the war for you,

But the railway shakes, the wagons are loaded

with forgotten grenades, and the moon is a white sun.

My blue shirt is soaked with sweat, are you thinking of me?

We hear shots fired through the mist,

The whistle of a rifle under the stars, the voice of a friend,

Wait for me. I will win the war for you.

And if death’s talons close on my chest,

Wait till the rain hides thee from enemy’s eyes

To come and bloom my grave with wilted roses

And if I can’t win the war,

Know that I have twisted the neck of History so that you love me

In the silent night, in the muffled whispers,

I married the blue night of your memory

And if I don’t win the war

Because others than me have won it,

Wait for the rain to hide you from enemy eyes

And bent over the grass that covers my grave,

Think that the war cannot be won by angels,

And go away from my grave