How dare you shine so brightly, sun,
when all our hearts are gray?
Know you not, O flippant sun,
a man was killed today?
Why bloom you with such radiance, flowers,
and, despite our tears, look gay?
Know you not, unfeeling ones,
a man was killed today?
O wind that blows so merrily
over hill and bay
do you care even but a whit
for he that died today?
How life continues on its course
when all living weep and pray
is beyond mortal knowledge; know you not
that a man was killed today?