Listen! Don't you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and fear?
 Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin
 sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted by
 nature's most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence
 from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted by reflections
 from World War II...

 Arise! 1941, '42
 The identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. There's one
 soldier incapable [bad word] sin. Kept alive by [bad word] thanks to
 his heavenly gift with a violin.

 His brilliant music so beautiful and pure... Shining warmth upon every
 soldier. It helps them to endure. Breath-taking melodies consuming all
 hate, sorrow and fear. These magnificent tunes are like silk for their
 ears. And for a moment their pain disappears.

 But this moment will not last when they are baffled by another blast. The
 enemy is near. Rain of bullets killing soldiers there and here. And so the
 [bad word] of peace is being silenced by the one of war. It plays the
 music of the dead; music made of lead. "I've had enough of this sickening
 war and it's murderous puppets! They don't understand the language of
 music cannot be spoken in death. I never took a life! Maybe now is the
 time to take mine. In the name of music; shall I cut my wrists or hang
 myself high by a violin string? symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!
 "

 The enemy lies on the other side of the field. He decides to walk straight
 into the fire fight, playing this dreamlike masterpiece. Every soldier
 stops, holds his breath. Not a single shot is being heard during an intro
 for his own death.

 And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end, both sides
 simultaneously open fire. There's the corpse of the violinist lying in mud
 and barbed wire.

 These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist. Can't you
 hear his call of death? Listen! Don't you hear these mad symphonies of
 grievance and fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw
 near. Some hear a violin sound... Others hear a man moaning in tears.

 The funerary dirge of a violinist...