light, light as a paper
light, started to scatter
light, started to die out and he so scared
It was nightmare, he couldn't bear
script lying on the stage, she put on the last play
and the whole villagers took a seat there
silently stared, at how time abandon this theater
the flames of war-the greatest curse, full of tear, melt the sugar
footage at the very beginning of this story was dust in the air
oh, panics climbed up on the children's face
confield 's lodged by the chariot and fading away
dandelion's shape, in shatters, desperate, flew away
she felt so cold and hoped if only no war, no more
In the dead of night
burned the candle light
At dawn ends the chaos
In hometown famine stopped
he, young, walked on the way home
staggered along
with skin ripped by the awn
what's the shape of hope in children's eyes
was it that he can wake up in the morning and have breakfast of rice
farm being ruined and village being burned,
farmers took up their weapon
he felt numb and sick and tired of fighting
how could hope be in kids' mind
was it that there was a swing for in the yard for them
and there were sweets in the pocket
the blade was polished by animosity from the savage
but he smiled on the face instead of panic
by方 文 山 , translated by JOHN
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem