The gentle gentleman
loved to so say reconcile not revile.
The evil evil man
loved to throw
nitroglycerin in the log fire
of amnesty and humility.
This is the way it is and shall always be—
until the very end of time,
if in fact there is an end of time.
For if there is not
let us toss war’s black and bloody flag
into the boiling cauldron of nothingness.
And if be that in eschatology —
the sword shall slash,
the drone shall drone,
the fire shall at once exhaust
then all at once mankind will see
a field of forever lilies behind an old oak tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem