It's a funeral next door
Once a war veteran
Who lies here as a rabbit.
I stand in front of him
And the landlord too besides me,
He won't grumbles about the General's arrears.
I see the changes simultaneously in the coffin.
It's me who sleeps there and the General points out his rusty pistol towards my forehead;
I cried that I am an innocent;
'Please do not try to kill me again Sir
You must have forgotten that I was killed in the battlefield.'
*Dust you are and to dust you will return.' -Genesis 3: 19
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very compelling. I would say that death has come much too close for comfort here. Take care. As always, Sandra