There is no logic in the flow of the flood
The army fronts are like waves
on the seashore,
Advancing and retreating regiments
Battalions are like puffs of smoke:
At a given place, there was a given object
Look for it again,
And it has gone.
To depict a battle,
we need a painter
with chaos in his brush.
He who was accurate at noon
is a liar by three o'clock
Geometry is misleading,
Only the tempest is true!
Freyad Hugo
Heerenveen
August,2021
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem