we what must fear most is not the war
that eliminates us all
when we are all gone, no one's telling
about what misery was there
we dread most is the war within
it is everyday and no one knows that pain
you cannot signify
or if you will, shall they be genuinely interested?
they too have their own inner wars
arguments and heated deliberations inside the
conference rooms of their hearts
against the mind
like bow and arrow is this spirit and body
like night and day
this struggle for morality
the good that we have and the evil that we embrace
the guilt that settles like sediments
at the bottom of the deepest river
the way we smile when we meet friends
the way we burst into tears when we are finally alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem