Here I am to confess that
patriotism and glory during wars
are just lies coined by politicians
who haven’t got the guts
to even kill a fly
and then expect young men
from the population
to kill, to maim and to destroy
and at the same time
to still stay sane
and here’s the honest truth:
to be forced into war at a pauper’s wage
and imprisoned if not
to go through countless hardships,
at the hands of a selected mad few
and then to be able to survive only
by taking some killing shots
kills the child, destroys the man
leaves only the bomb happy soldier behind
who will never be the same again
and nothing can make him
continue as before
or can cause the past to reappear
[Reference: Tell Us The Tricks by Paul Scott.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem