In the midst of battle
The war rages on.
The bullets were flying
As the peace was withdrawn.
As I dove in the foxhole
To avoid the shells
I thought to myself,
“I’m in the middle of hell”.
As I regained composure
I saw on the ground
An enemy soldier
That was hit by a round.
When I looked at the soldier
I saw in his face,
The fear of a child
That was lost, and out of place.
I reached out my hand
To show I was a friend.
I tried to give him peace
For my enemy was at his end.
The soldier began to speak
I didn’t know what he was saying.
Although I didn’t know his language
I knew that he was praying.
His wound was very fatal
I knew he would not live
Then he reached out to me
As if to say “forgive? ”
Then he went with God
Or Allah if he preferred.
So I let him rest in peace
For that’s what he deserved.
The bombing then receded
And I had to continue on
Moving through the night,
Until the early dawn.
As I tell this story
No one believes it’s true,
But if two enemies can find peace
Maybe we can too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem