I—"I WATCH MY RUMANIANS GO TO WAR"
The trains are passing ... passing ... and the cargo they are hurrying thither is the youth of our country and the hope of our homes....
By thousands they are massed together; they sit on the roofs of the wagons, they hang on to their sides, they balance themselves in perilous positions, but all of them are gay, ... they shout, they sing, they laugh....
And the trains pass, pass ... all day the trains pass.... With hands full of flowers we hurry to the stations; our hearts are heavy; we long to say words they will remember, to tell them what we feel, but their voices raised in chorus drown all we would say.
One cry is on every lip when they see me, "We are going! Going gladly, going to victory, so that you may become Empress—Empress of all the Rumanians!" There is hardly a voice that does not say it; it is the cry of every heart; they hope it, they believe it, they mean it to me, and I smile back at them offering them my flowers, which they clutch at with eager hands.
And thus the trains pass ... pass....