When I reminisce about all those years
I see many things.
Life and death [bad word] together
like the mountains and valleys
in which we lived.

There was wealth and opulence
but also tribulation and loss.
There was laughter and song
and there was also tears.
But even more than tears
blood was shed.
And so many were left
to their unadorned graves, unburied. 

But to us
death was but another journey.
And close by the darkness
through which we strode
there was also light.
The light of life and immortality.

And after all,
when I reminisce about those years,
I mostly remember our songs.

We sang,
as if to drown out the sound
of clashing swords,
as if the battle cries fell silent.

Because the war had lost its meaning.