Illegal lust,
With drawn out swords!
facing the world;
All around us today,
In the name of hatred and war.
Archers!
Gone to the housetops;
And, full of commotion,
In a tumultuous city.
Sadness,
With the muse of illegal lust;
Archers!
With drawn out swords;
In the day of trouble.
Slain, pain!
With the dead in the battle;
Perplexity!
Treading down;
And, breaking down the walls.
The quiver! !
With cries from the mountains;
As mankind shoot at each other,
Because of the muse of hatred and war.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
War is so horrific and devestating. Captured that perfectly in this nicely done write.