A sudden silence in the midst of play
When I was seven years’ old,
I overheard my parents talking of the tanks;
the broken promises of spring,
the utter misery of things.
I didn’t understand of course;
I didn’t understand at all.
But I knew of death already.
Death was my favourite aunt,
who couldn’t come to birthdays anymore.
Death was a sudden silence in the midst of play.
This Prague thing was a sudden silence
in the midst of play.
Now I watch the children of this city
in the midst of play:
the seven years’ old who do not know,
that once Prague was
a sudden silence in the midst of play.
So good to see.