The lines formed bravely upon the field
Trumpets sounded and drummers rolled
Tender youths determined not to yield
Faced each other in attitudes bold
One side dressed in white and shining gold
Bravely bathed in warm sunshine so bright
Standing forth for right in lines so bold
Willingly they'll bleed for what is right
Opposing forces wrapped in darkest black
The grave's own chill hidden by the night
Hating the light they are eager to attack
To assert mastery over the denizens of light
Bugles sound and so begins the endless fight
Chaos reigns, death has come, a river of blood
Will life win out or shall come eternal blight
The price, the pain, the red flows in a flood
Crimson fields upon which the battle does rage
The blood that flows from the drum's first roll
Each side steadfastly refusing to disengage
They war and bleed and die to be master of my soul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very well written poem full of imagery. Thanks for sharing