Friedrich Schiller: Oh, blessed peace, may the day of grim War’s ruthless crew never dawn
Anti-war essays, poems, short stories and literary excerpts
Friedrich Schiller
From The Song of the Bell (1798)
Translated by Theodore Martin
Oh, blessed peace,
Oh, Concord sweet,
Hover, oh hover,
With kindly sway,
Over this town of ours, I pray!
Oh, may it never dawn, the day,
When grim War’s ruthless crew
Shall riot this calm valley through!
When the heavens which evening’s mellow red
Colours with hues so fair,
Are all aflame with the ghastly glare
Of blazing towns, and the havoc dread
Of villages burning there!
****
Woe to those, who hand light’s heaven-sent torch
To the purblind fool! Its kindly ray
Is no light for him, it can only scorch,
And cities and countries in ashes lay.
****
She waves, swings free!
Joy to our town may this portend,
And PEACE the message be, she foremost forth
Shall send!
