I did not learn from books
About the horrors of war
I was soaked in them
On the killing fields
Amid exploding shells
Frightened and savage.
I did not watch movies
To see dead bodies
Lying on green meadows
I saw them with my own eyes
The raging fires
The engulfing flames
In the blazing tanks.
The sun was shining
It was a balmy
And beautiful day
As the summer wind carried
The nauseating smell
Of the burning flesh
Across gentle hills.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem