Once a soldier always a little boy,
never grow to your full adulthood.
some find a way in the middle of a
chaotic storm and run for their lives.
and some eternally sink in the abyss.
Run soldier run, awake soldier awake.
In the forefront of a ferocious storm,
there a soldier stands, at the back of a
triumphant harvest there a soldier weeps.
Run soldier run.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem