It was early in the morning
that enemy Mig-23 fighter plane
after fighter plane
came to pillage, to ravage
broke the dull routine, shattered the mundane
and it happened so unexpectedly
that we thought them to be
our own Mirage fighter jets and were waving
before they dived in attack formation as the freaking enemy
and dropped bomb, after bomb and hit a truck that was moving
and on the Calueque dam wall there was consternation,
there were big holes and men were dying
and I had no feelings at that moment,
was totally without emotion,
shot with a light machinegun at a emptying sky,
heard men in agony crying
and when the Migs were gone,
still burning the Buffel troop carrier carried on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem