Thousands of brave troops shouting out battle cries
storming the beach in swarms like and army of wasps
with razor-sharp steel bayonets lounging, and thrusting,
piercing young men's dream of love, for the earth
has swallowed them up and spits out their helmets
for head stone markers across the sands, like
turtle shells who came a shore to burry eggs
under the dark of night, glares of bursting bombs
with allusions of fourth of July barbeque's, a patriotic
stench of death fills the battle fields like incense
of smoke from cigarettes in our holy sanctuary
the trench the fox hole our hell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem