The war comes on the door,
The lady leaves her children go,
N' when they dun, they shall die at home,
On beds of glorious shores,
'Son, I die. It is not your wrong,
It's the pride of me who fought,
Years after years you remember those,
Or you're a memory in the heart of your home.'
'Dadie, would you die for me?
Would you feel what I feel?
Save the day on the borders of the game;
Will you promise to save the day? '
And they say:
'Save us from the war,
Save your neighbour lives next door,
Can you fight them with your gun,
Start till midnight from the dawn? '
'Go away my lovely soul,
Tell my son, I finished them all,
Tell the people, no fear anymore,
With my gun I stood till the end,
I fought till midnight from the dawn.'
'And here I shall die, son
And here my corpse will lie,
In this sand a droplet of my red would dry
And remember,
The enemy soldiers I killed, sons for their blood as you for mine will cry,
But never compare your innocence with theirs'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem