Flanders
In the dawn over Flanders
Wounded horses move no more
And dead soldiers look small.
The stillness is fragile beautiful.
Soldiers in dugouts smoke
Eat from cans
Waits for another the fighting
To commence.
God sighs deeply
He had given us a free will
He had been rash
Regrets his frivolities.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem