FAREWELL THEN MY SON Do not call me, father Do not seek me Do not call me Do not wish me bad We are on a route uncharted Fire and blood erase our tracks On we fly on wings of thunder Nevermore to sheath our swords All of us in battle fallen Not to be brought back by words Will there be a rendez-vous? I know not I only know we still must fight We are sandy grains in infinity Never to meet, nevermore see light. Farewell then, my son Farewell then my conscience My youth and my solace My one and my only And let this farewell be the end of a story Of solitude vast than which none is more lonely In which you remain barred forever and ever From light and from air with your death pangs untold Untold and unsoothed not to be resurrected Forever and ever An eighteen year old. No trains ever come from those regions unscheduled or scheduled No aeroplanes fly there. Farewell then my son For no miracles happen In the world dreams do not come true Farewell I will dream of you still as a baby Treading the earth with little strong toes The earth where already so many are buried This song to my son then is come to a close. Read by Laurence Olivier on The World at War