Basic Info

Hello there! My name is Sara Curfs, I’m a teenage writer who reads her poetry about the Second World War (all written by myself) in English. I do so in the uniform of a nurse during this time, or, when asked to, in a different attire (1940’s civilian for example).

You can hire me to read at your events. Please message me through the email in contacts and let me know the details!

Here are some pictures to show what I do and how I look. PHOTOGRAPHS BY NICK GEERLING

In No Man’s Land SONG

Martin Krewinkel, a man in my re-enactment group and to be fair, a true sweetheart and a gem in every way, messaged me one day if it would be alright with me if he used one of my poems for a song.

Of course I said yes.

Time went by, and after a month or so, he messaged me again, now with the complete song of one of my poems. He loves music and loves writing and singing, yet all the same he loved my poetry and combined the two to something so sweet and heartwarming.

I listened the song for a good few days non-stop until everyone at home grew tired of me and I was forced to wear headphones, haha. None the less, it truly warms my heart and I personally really like the song, hope you all do too!

Credits go to Martin Krewinkel for the amazing song!

Here are the original poem:

There he lay,
In crimson bathing,
His lifeless eyes,
Stargazing
His useless body,
Laying still,
No more breaths,
For his lungs to fill
No more days,
Yet to come,
No more watching
The rising sun

There he sat,
With bloody hands,
Mourning,
For his fallen friends,
His lips shut,
No words to say,
No call to utter,
Or God to pray,
With anger filled,
He grabbed a gun,
And fired,
At that rising sun

And so,
Night took over day,
Yet close,
Death would always stay,
He sat silently,
In No Man’s Land,
With a message,
For Heaven to send,
Of grief, sadness,
And the beautiful dead,
A message which is nothing more,
Than sad

Take My Hand

The smell of death
You’ll never know
Caused by the fallen
Down below

She takes you
In her suffocating hug
While she silently swallows
The holes you have dug

The men that have died
Now reduced to mud
As she takes the rest
Of the life you may got

She won’t have mercy
She’ll whisper her song
To the wounded and dying
That here just don’t belong

The land of the living
The sky of the dead
For you’ll never remember
When Death and you met

This poem was inspired by a friend of mine, Nick Geerling, who has a Second World War German trench in his backyard. I stayed there last Thursday, together with my brother and himself. It was an amazing experience and above all he documented the whole day for his youtube channel, link below.

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8Yefv28y448lp_su2bZwhA