Let us leave the answer
For the historian to record
We who have not prophet-eyes
To read the future
Cry with a terrible wailing
The senselessness of the last warring struggle.
Backward in history
Like-wailings were heard,
Yet time built a monument to freedom
On the graves of its martyrs--
The cross of Calvary
Transposed a song of death
Into a timeless symphony of life.
So may the fields of crosses
Blossom into the beauty
Of freedom for all men.
Leave me this last shred of home
For my son was killed in Korea.
