I canít forget that battle, no way, The air pregnant with death. And stars were falling from the heavenly slopes, A noiseless rain. Hey, one fell again, and I made my wish: To get out alive. Thatís how I hastily tied my life To a stupid star. I was already sure Iíd avoided bad luck, Had managed to slip by. But a stray star was thrown from the sky Straight to the heart. They told us, "We need that height. Donít count your bullets." Yes sir, and a second star slides onto your shoulder And collar. These stars in the sky are like fish in the ponds; They suffice for all and then some. If I hadnít met up with my death that time, Iíd be a hero. I would give that star to my son, A simple memento. In the sky, a star is missing in action, Nowhere to fall.
© Bill Everett. Translation, 2002