There are more blood in the fields
crushed in the dust of the land
and in the roots of many young sprouts.
It is born with the sun
the spirit of antiquity and eternal existence
long time ago that I used to construct.
In the fields the wind still flows
and carries the voice
where it is heard more.
In the woods near the hummock
irrelevant and empty,
where streams continue to roar...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There are more blood in the fields crushed in the dust of the land and in the roots of many young sprouts. the very first stanza attracted me very much ..dear poet. thank u very much. facts of life, death, struggle, bygone stories and the history.. well portrayed and a fine poem. tony