The war cry sounds across the land,
The hills tremor with fear, melting the sand,
No animal strays, nor walks a man,
When the battle cry sounds across the land
The horses bolt like lightening in squalor,
The sun hides its face and turns its back to the horror,
The wet armor and swords clash in desperate furor
As roaring demons shriek in anguish (and on they holler and holler)
Blood wets the ground, the earth bleeds fast,
The loyal servants go first, the heathens go last
And who is more loyal than the earth, I ask?
As she cries tears of blood over the sleeping grass
The night wears on in silent agony
The clouds slit open and crack like litany
Cursing the soldiers for their blatant infidelity
(‘How could you betray the lover who birthed you, without fear or pity? ’)
Men die as horseflesh rots,
No battle is won, though the war is fought
Death is no prestigious victory, but one for naught
Evil does as is begot
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem