Digging deadly trenches
Preparing for a long war
Wars are forlorn
As wretched as they are
Warning of losses
His war
Her war
It does not matter
A woman's ghost
A teenager's ghost
A child's ghost
He was not certain
Ghosts cannot speak
They cannot feel
Nor can they be hurt
They pluck out their hearts
Before birth,
And hang them on their beds
Away from dreamers
Passers-by or poets
Except for those who
Eavesdrop
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem