No new horizons catch his blue eyes
when he gets the command for his freedom,
just the wide sky stretches out far above
where the sun blazes yellow in the blue
and he in boots, battledress and beret
gives some officers a few last handshakes,
some others, now as civilians loudly cheer
are joyous, quite happy and with long steps
he walks over the dusty parade ground,
taking a short cut up to the main gate,
while shots ring at the big shooting course
as if he is escaping, tired of killing,
he wants to get away to lead a new life,
but still is not really free from the army.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem