Most of the men off fighting in Civil War
Our women and children haggling over bargains.
And then three hours bombardment from the skies
Like a place of card, our town, stamped on by giants
Those who hid in the fields were soon machine gunned.
The wooden walls of our homes, a red inferno
Wives wailed over the dead, blown up by shrapnel
Horses and bulls lay crushed by masonry.
Doves flew in all directions, panic-stricken.
I ran wildly ahead towards a bomb hole
Dived inside the churned up, muddy crater.
Bullets ricocheted, and cars exploded
Riddled corpses leaked blood on the streets
Children huddled round a parish priest
Too shocked to speak. In tatters, every one
The Plaza was a wall of living flame,
All that was left, a church, a tree, a factory
Charred bodies will forever haunt my dreams.
And this was how war came to Guernica
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem