It was an autumn day
and times will never be like that again:
We who are in love
having a lunch at a restaurant
and the half carelessness
after the promotion that I got,
the war days on the border
that for me is over for the here and now
and then, we just miss the bomb
that explodes in Church Street
and know we are living in times of war
and see the innocent
of any sex, age,
language and race
murdered, maimed, blown to pieces
and of some, just pieces are left
and somewhere our old world
has lost its meaning and has gone insane.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very powerfully written, Gert