Invited
I went; as guest
By force at first
Willing, the rest.
Had talk and food
Tea, cakes, fruits.
Then came the past
At least, alas …
Men, tanks, attacks.
War
War
War
War
War
This damn reward for the devils
Lawless rulers, dealers of arms.
I asked them lot; victims of war
Iraq, Iran, of Abadan.
A boy leaves home to go to war
Defends city of Khorramshahr inside Iran
Keeps the pride.
Mohammad Hossein
Was then, thirteen.
So came along much more of war
This damn prize for the devils.
“I was a kid riding my bike, ” said Mohammad
His dad told us of how the bomb, hit, killed people:
“Boiling barrel was hit, water, burned nine of us.”
And their bride talked of mother who was doctor:
“We were two kids, mass of injured, for triage, ”
I wrapped the night: “All of Reagan.”
Called him devil.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem