With the End Suddenly in View

Pull down a curtain over the bright sun,
Cover your ears to the boys having fun,
To the unstoppable ticking of time
For one is dead of a slayerless crime.

Leave your best suit where it is in the press,
Leave out the hoover and don’t mind the mess,
Feed the cat, feed the dog, water the plant,
Have nothing in your mind but your dead friend.

Leave this day’s mail lying dead on the floor,
Make sure the bell rings on a lockéd door,
Sit down, take a drink, the night will be long
And whistle softly your friend’s favourite song.

Now imagine the Sundays without him
– Cry once and for all if that is your whim –
But the steam-streakèd sky’ll still see the sun
And the young children will still have some fun.

But today is a black and mournful day.
For your friend didn’t have the choice to stay,
For your old friendship has come to an end
Without your having time to shake his hand.

Eyelid and coffin lid shut together
For both of you: he mourned and you mourner:
In his wooden box your friend dies again,
Others hide behind dark glasses and pain
– Let no one cry aloud that he is dead,
For no sound must reach your friend’s final bed.