How much it is given in our hands
when our might of gods are displayed
To deem it just to wound and kill
and declare who can be saved.
But Consorts and Consultants are hidden well
who create this hate and slaughter
while in the streets run the innocent
Father, Mother, son and daughter.
Of sure there is malice for the other side
who jeopardize our folk and kin
but what can we say of this whole damn thing
when in war only greed can win.
What has happened here that we failed to see
is that some will never learn
to respect our neighbor and covet him not
lest our love for him will turn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem