A lovely garden growing there
Cast aside in frenzy’s pace,
To plant some evil thing
Deep wthin soft virgin soil.
No thought for innocence;
No grace fell there
Upon child-like eyes,
Just the hate-filled doing of it.
Fields of glory
Ripped asunder, with no care
For smallest wonder
Flourishing there.
Pushed aside for blind purpose
The heart of a flower beats no more;
Silence falls on sparrow song,
For death is a quiet thing.
But someday the soiled memory
Will pierce through time and space;
See the awful thing rooted there,
.................. and scream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Carolyn, very enjoyable read. Ian