words adapted from "I Have a Rendezvous With Death",

a World War I poem by Alan Seeger



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A DATE WITH DEATH
a song lyric adapted from a WWI poem by Alan Seeger
adapted by Joel Sattler

I have a date with death
at some hard fought barricade
and when spring comes back
with ever soft rustling shade
and the apple scent fills the air
I will have a date with my death
when the spring comes blue and fair

it may be he shall take my hand
and lead me into his dark land
And he shall close my eyes
and he shall quench my breath
it may be I’ll pass him still

I have a rendezvous
on some scarred battered hill
when spring comes round this year
and flowers reappear

God knows it was better to be deep
pillowed in silk and scented down
where love throbs out in blissful sleep
pulse to pulse and breath to breath
where hushed awakenings are still dreams

I have a date with death it seems
at midnight in some flaming town
where spring trips north this year
and to my pled-ged word am true
I shall not fail
that rendezvous

And he shall close my eyes
and he shall quench my breath
it may be I’ll pass him still
I have a rendezvous
on some scarred battered hill
when spring comes round this year
and flowers reappear

at midnight in some flaming town
where spring trips north again this year
and I to my pled-ged word am true
I shall not fail
that rendezvous

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[the original poem is as follows:]


I HAVE A RENDEZVOUS WITH DEATH by Alan Seeger

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true ,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.


[Alan Seeger was an American poet
who joined the French Foreign Legion
to fight against the Germans in World War I
and was killed in action at Belloy-en-Santerre in 1916. ]


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