I saw a singer singing to a crowd,- <br />Singing of laughing life,- and all the while <br />He sang in tones so shrilly loud, <br />Not one man had a smile. <br /> <br />I saw a fiddler from a broken plain <br />Playing his weeping fiddle,- sweet and clear. <br />He sang of Death and Cries and Pain,- <br />But no one shed a tear. <br /> <br />I saw a whistling soldier, still and wan, <br />Firing his rifle from a fearful place,- <br />But all the time a dying man <br />Looked long upon his face.<br /><br />Leon Gellert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sights-2/
