In the war zone
The gas flows like a mist
Wear the mask, human,
Your breath is short.
And in the heavens there be
Already a frown.
The clouds gather and the vultures
Too.
Circle lower the black bats with
Eerie crying.
Time with a sickle cuts the mass
Where motion passes.
The snow dries and becomes
Glaciers of desperation
Crystallized from human blood
And stress.
And in the war zone
There is silence and clangor
All simultaneous:
Quiet and restlessness
In the war zone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem