Blood and fire
Growing higher
Falling over the tall trees
The sound of gunshot
The silence of soldiers who fought
And never returned to see
No one knows it
They can't see it
The bird bravely flying overhead
The sound of fighting
Down below each night
And day the bird keeps flying o'er the dead
The end; there's still no sign
Soldiers march in line
The bird follows them with not so much as a sound
That brave, brave bird
No sound can be heard
Honouring the soldiers buried deep in the ground
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem