The usual murmur of the sea breeze fades away; ' The Ocean is great; but you cannot sip a little dropp of water.'
And it seemed since morning till evening he waited for the bus.
How does he takes a bus as the poor guy has no any idea of his destination?
And he carries a heavy bag that full of gloomy nightmares.
* A hymn to the battlefields all over the World.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very metaphorical. There are many ways to serve on the battlefields. One way being to serve on the battlefields of life. Excellent wtite, Nimal. Warmest regards, Sandra