Father and my Uncle fell then;
fresh soldiers, two young men.
Highland troops, in fight-gear,
engaging battle, enemy near.
Uncle Angus, machine gunner,
was killed that dire Summer.
On same day, father fell too,
another hit man, further two.
Angus dead, wounded brother,
a killed man - maimed other;
our forces fought, retreated...
in battling on, fight heated.
The number wounded and slain;
many dead - others felt pain.
All my family suffered too,
many 'fell'...'HD' knows who!
All 'parents', grieve for both;
'news-of'...as we'd all loath!
Angus fell - enriched in pride,
Roddy hit, and others beside.
'Roddy' restored, over years,
both could cause many tears;
he bore his wounds with him:
battle scars, all were sin!
Such sad history, is in the past,
but the feelings may surely last?
People are, from beyond memory;
wishing to banish war entirely!
Amen
E.A.M.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem