We have many talents.
A talent for singing, for acting, for writing,
and, above all,
a talent for killing.
We killed each other,
we killed the unity,
we killed the country,
and the grand idea.
We killed rock-and-roll.
The only thing we got left
is to kill ourselves.
Today we were unsuccessful,
Tomorrow is a new day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good start with a nice poem, Nicholas. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.