But for a contretemps,
for a dashed draw.
Courageously and unforeseeingly
what turned out to be...
for his opponent fought well
having already bottlenecked half the battlefield)
...one of those temps.
He was stomped.
Actually, he conceded defeat.
The post mortem found:
had he longer contended,
never could he not have surrendered;
found: after his generous temps, this one,
he would have been lucky to have won.
We are living in a world
where you can buy
half a pound of hazelnuts
and half a pound of filberts
and come out of the shop
with packets of different nuts.
In other words,
we are living in another universe.
Further proof of that:
the same chemical bomb can be dropped
by both contenders:
attackers and defenders.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem