The speaker takes stock of what they've lost, and the list is short and bleak. Their work went to the war, their time to bed, their place in the world to a store of wine. Each loss is given a different thief, which makes the speaker sound scattered and worn down, as if life has been carved up by forces bigger than they are. "What a sad story!" comes almost like a shrug, a bit of dry, self-mocking commentary on their own situation.
The turn comes in the last two lines. Out of all this loss, the speaker claims to make "one good thing: a great quiet." It's hard to tell whether this is consolation or bitter irony. The title, "Silent drunk," suggests the quiet may be the stillness of someone who has stopped talking and simply drinks. The mood is subdued and weary, with a faint, uneasy peace at the end. The speaker seems to find a kind of dignity in having nothing left to say.