history remembers names
sculpted on white marbles
of soldiers who died
in their own valor
the very wars they inflict upon
us perhaps history too must not forget
the civilian, the innocent children, the crying women,
the mosques, and churches in ashes, the playgrounds missing,
the markets all blown up,
the trails erased one day, the forest flaming, the art museums gone
they planted the mines
and those who may have not forgotten
still clearly remember
on some days while they sleep on bed
some explosions still come alive
the dead still keep on dying
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem