The old man stops and stares,
a moment from his life.
Stopped with others in the street,
Parading to the low drum beat.
Remember those from years ago,
who lay in Flanders Fields,
and those lost yesterday,
in a desert land far away.
Remember those still fighting,
their fate yet unknown,
and those men,
so brave, he is here for them.
So stop a moment,
hear the bell toll,
Sacrifice we remember,
on the 11th of November.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem