stripping layers of burnt skin
from lifeless bodies...
digging shallow ditches with tractors.
smoke filled silent skies.
the screams of the dying
swallowed up unheard...
the gods turn their heads,
and the trees that wept
are now on fire....
the stench of emptiness...
glass broken on the sands.
who sent the planes?
who pulled the triggers?
whose faces, whose souls?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes powerful write.very good.