Theirs is a pain we have never felt. Theirs are tears we have never wept. Theirs are lives we have never known. Theirs, too, are deaths we have never slept.
How can the loss be understood? How can the feeling be described? When everything we know is gone, And everyone we love has died?
The world is far too frigid for feeling It cannot know man’s desperate plight While some spend their days in riotous living, Forgotten others know nothing but night.
Can life be restored and seeds be sown?
The winter has killed life from this earth.
Only when the world has reawakened,
Then, from its womb, will spring new birth.
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