我的儿子回来了;他终于来了;他乘专列回家。我的渴望和伤痛都过去了，我唯一的儿子又回来了。他带着音乐、旗帜和鲜花回家;我的心充满平安和喜悦;他大清早就来了半个镇的人都来欢迎他。为了平息我的悲伤，一夜又一夜，我把枕头挖得多么深，在我啜泣着入睡之前，它将是晨光。我曾经如何凝视着海港的酵母泡沫，想着他在远处战斗…但现在，我的儿子带着钟声回家了。 There's Mrs. Burke, she has her Ted, But less the sight of his two eyes; And Mrs. Smith - you know her Fred - They took his legs off at the thighs. How can these women happy be, For all their bravery of talk, One with a son who cannot see, One with a boy who'll never walk. I should be happier than they; My lad came back without a scar, And all the folks are proud they say, To greet their hero of the war. So in the gentle eventide I'll give God thanks my Bert's come home. . . . As peacefully I sit beside His tiny mound of new-turned loam.