A man lies in a poppy field
his face like a sheet
dead to the world
and all its creatures
The storm clouds gather
it begins to rain
the sky is weeping
mourning a lost soul
O rain take him in
restore his mysterious life
or leave him there
to be found by no one
The poppy a sign of remembrance
not to forget the dead
the man’s body is added
to the battle fields of peace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem