The peace that war knows
Wasn’t purchased with dripping blood;
The war that peace knows
Wasn’t punctured by artillery sounds.

The peace the dead know
Wasn’t bought by a furrowed brow;
The war not known to the dead,
Feels all the same to them, as peace.

Knowing neither wars,
Nor that the dead are dead;
Shouldn’t we be jealous-
And wish it were us, instead?