The house is crumbling into decay
and years and years are dying away
The little child that lies in bed
so sweet but dead
The old man sits and pounds his head
to the dull boom, boom of the gun
That's tended by his son
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An impressive poem, increasing hatred for war and love for peace. Peace which is still a dream.