Classic Poem

Great King, there is no hatred in this heart for you,
There is no anger in my soul.
Only a man's deep pity for a brother,
Do I feel, only a wish that you could understand.
We fought, Great King, for what you thought was right —
We were the puppets and you pulled the strings.
We did not know for what we fought —
'Twas to protect our honor, so you said, and we our souls aflame,
Answered the trumpets' call.
Honor — what does it mean?
Does it mean a bloody war?
Is not our honor greater, higher than this, O King?
Higher than death and destruction, highest above all?
Is not to protect our honor to stand, wondrous and fine,
Helping those countries about to grow as we have done?
Is not honor a marvelous love and a heart that holds all men?
King, that's what we call honor, and you we feel are wrong.
But if you are right and honor is death and hate and kill,
If the honor we fight for is stained by a brother's blood —
King, we would rather die in the fight,
Die rather than see our children rejoice in the fact
That we murdered our brothers so.
But King, because you have said it,
Our children will think it right
That we fought " to protect our honor, "
So King, we die in the fight.