Ernst ist der Herbst. Und wenn die Blätter fallen, sinkt auch das Herz zu trübem Weh herab. Still ist die Flur, und nach dem Süden wallen die Sänger stumm, wie nach dem Grab.
Autumn is sad. And when the leaves are falling, sinks too the heart in troubled grief to lave. Still is the field, and flown to Southwinds calling, are songsters, still, as to the grave.
CounterSocial is the first Social Network Platform to take a zero-tolerance stance to hostile nations, bot accounts and trolls who are weaponizing OUR social media platforms and freedoms to engage in influence operations against us. And we're here to counter it.
@poemblaze
Look at the subsequent posts with the other stanzas. I credited the poet at the end.
https://www.cpdl.org/wiki/index.php/Klaus_Groth