into the land of less oil
imagining that wooden boat with white sails
into the land of mines before
i should not hear
the sounds of wailing children again
i must not see half arms
a quarter of some legs
cut ears and
exploding choppers
there i will shop and tour
see the past and smile the future
khum ung.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem