i've seen the face of the
winner
the one who survived from that war
and his triumphant entry in the iron gates of the
old city
he is just one of us
scarred and scared and now simply wants
to stay and just be
one of us
sitting on one of the chairs in the veranda
watching the sunset
drinking beer
smoking a cigar
talking about the mundane event
how to fish
how it feels to gather shells in the seashore
how to make love
for the first time in his life
for life is simple and must be lived simply
like all the rest
nothing special, nothing exaggerated
nothing about any 4th of july
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem