The Best by Nordahl Grieg (translated by Paul Gulbransen) Death can burn like lightning; More clearly we see than before Each life in its white sorrow: It is the best who die. The strong, the pure of heart Who desired and risked the most; Calmly they bid farewell, One after another they depart. The living rule the world, A group is always left, The indispensable clever ones, Life’s second best men. The best are murdered in prison, Swept away by bullets and the sea. The best will never be our future. The best just simply die. This is how we honor them, with impotence With all emptiness known to man, But then we have failed the best, Betrayed them with bitterness. They do not wish to be grieved to death, But live with courage and belief. Only in audacious hearts Flows the blood of the fallen. Are not all who have known them Richer than the dead were - For men have had them as friends And children have had them as fathers. They enriched the life they left behind. Their memory remains with the living. On Jan’s grave we write: The best will always remain.