Oh, modern warfare is ruthlessly fought,
With men buried alive in trenches deep;
And blown to smithereens, in crossfire caught,
While kith and kin, wives, mothers, loved ones weep!
’Tis fight to death- bodies you can’t retrieve;
Or maimed so grotesquely, none can discern;
Some lost; some taken prisoners, morn and eve;
Blood-shed like river- yet not world’s concern.
And hunger, diseases, climate too kill;
Sheer waste of bullets, lives and material;
And without peace, both parties become ill;
The common-man’s sufferings are so real.
War’s ravages haunt posterity too!
What can the other nations or God do?
8-24-2002
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem