the islands of the pacific
strictly
have not spoken about peace
the men who live there do not look the same
their language speak of a different version
their eyes look at differing
directions
soon there will be another war of wits
bullets like insults penetrate
each others' pride
this greed, this avarice
this human way of making war noble
but only after so many are killed
a hundred lives wasted, shall another new lesson be learned
a writer shall make a book
life is hard, men are so foolish
playing with their guns
killing their own kind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem