His mother has given birth to a boy for me
an eye browless..blond boy
lying in his swaddling clothes all in blues
a light ball..weighing three kilos
when my son came to the world
chidren were born in KOREA
like yellow sun flowers
mc arthur massacred them all
they without being fed with their mothers' breasts
when my son came to the world
children were born in greek dungeons
their fathers were shot to death
they first saw the iron bars
as if the first to be seen in this world
when my son came to the worldchildren were born in anatolia
blue eyed..black eyed...grey eyed babies
they were attacked by louses
as soon as they were born
how many of them will remain alive
god knows
when my son reaches my age
ı will not be on this world and be gone
but the world will be a wonderful cradle
rocjing all the children
the world will be a blkue satin cloth matressed
a lovely and peaceful cradle
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem