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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, chapter 23 (search)
The knock alphabet. Mr. Kennan tells us that Russian prisoners converse with each other in a complex alphabet, indicated by knocking on the walls of their cells. Like prisoners, each within his own deep cell, We mortals talk together through a wall. “Was that low note indeed my brother's call? Or but a distant water-drop which fell?” Yet to the straining ear each sound can tell Some woe that might the bravest heart appal, Or some high hope that triumphs over all: “Brother, I die to-morrow.” “Peace!” “All's well!” Oh, could we once see fully, face to face, But one of these our mates,--once speak aloud, Once meet him, heart to heart, in strong embrace,--How would our days be glad, our hopes be proud! Perchance that wall is Life; and life being done, Death may unite these sunder