We were laughing on the border-line
My father’s coming back in my priers,
You had your white hand in mine,
With hate in eyes, saw we soldiers.
The war suddenly broke out.
In my mind you were fine,
In the sky, doves were cutting a cloud,
But my hand seemed to pine.
The empty house blew up among deep trees,
We were laughing on the border-line.
I and my father were staying under ruins
You said you wanted to design
The older friends for the church
-Would to God it were not true-
Youngers would have right of search.
The water poured through
Your colourness raincoat
Slipping on the bordering cut.
We’re going now, simply Cuelhos,
Our duty towards ours neighbours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this one is really sad.... comes across to me that way.... someone you loved and lost? Jen x