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?