You put on a uniform and become someone
that you would never be.
Your head is shaved and you learn to salute
and forget what it's like to be free.
Free to form your own opinions,
free to make your own choice,
free to follow no one,
free to speak your own voice.
You discard the uniform and then become
the person you really are.
You grow your hair, your beard, your soul
and salute no military czar.
And in so doing you discard the past
and come to peace at last.
Or do you?
Can you free your mind from what you've done
and sleep peacefully at night?
Or do scenes of battle and killing
never leave your sight?
Think young men and turn away
so there will never come a day
when you will silently cry
or bite the bullet and die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem