In the light of recent events I repost a slighty edited version of a translation of a ballad by Theodor Fontane I did back in 2006. Carla Nayland kindly provided me with the historical context - which is outside my area of expertise - in the comments.
Das Trauerspiel von Afghanistan
Snow like powder from the sky softly falls,
When before Djelalabad a rider halts.
"Who's there" - "A British
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