Solemnly we remember you but once a year with sullen face,
And reward you with false flowers and prayers.
And as we make our way back to normality without a backwards glance, happy with our conscience! We forget you for another year.
are we the Grateful ones? , happy to breathe the chilled air and hear the lark twitter gay on a cold November morn, to know that there's always tomorrow for us.
But I would ask you this! Who would trade places with you now
Oh! Grateful dead! And see what you had seen and march on without a fuss?
And should you speak but once again would you not say "tear down your bloody cenotaphs and give us what is rightfully ours there is no Glory in death, but for blood did we not lust"?
Stolen youth! Oh! Wasted seeds of Europe, no bloodline for you to continue your lineage, just cold earth for now lest greed take away your resting place
And what then do we remember?
Was this reward foretold you by some ancient sage before your supreme sacrifice should you still walk into the teeth of the Hydra before that last November?
And could you speak for one last time should you say "was nothing learnt by our parting, our deaths did you not trust? "
And lastly! Why did God not cry "Enough! , Enough! , Enough! "?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem