Perhaps I shot a foe today,
I do not really know
and the bullet of my R1 rifle
went right through a teak tree
and probably an enemy soldier is dead
as no more RPG-7 rocket-grenades whine over my head
and silence now visits me
and all of this happened
when I ordered the armoured car
to stop to take a pee
and endangered everybody along with me.
I walk back to the Ratel-90 armoured car
and it starts up ready to go,
I get in through a hatch
and we drive off
and perhaps I shot a foe today
but I will never know,
perhaps I took out an enemy
who could have opened the armoured car
like a tin of sardines with a fatal shot
and still I do not comprehend
why any man should die
while somebody spots
an enemy T-55 battle tank
and we stop for a killing shot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem