A soldier's morale was killed
Just like his enemy by the dearth of munitions and food
His mettle had gone
The only motivation left in the war stricken soldier
Was AWOL and strapped to his shoulder
Was a silent gun devoid of strength.
He made it lean on a barren plantain stem
And turned his back on it.
The enemy's artillery shook the earth
Like a volcano behind him
And the upsurge of hunger couldn't
Allow him double his steps
A refugee couple had their dresses
Kept by the river's bank and were taking
Succour from the scorching sun
In the deeps of the the rivulet.
A thought to change the army khaki
Blossomed in the heart of the fleeing soldier
He carefully pulled the khahi off
And wore the woman's wrapper away
And when he had sufficiently crossed the river
The war ended.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem