Under Sainsbury's, on a concrete bed,
In a car park, where dread dreams went and died.
A soldier cries, remembers he's not dead,
in Salisbury where lonely folk abide.
He tries to sleep through all the silent screams.
of victims of the great and good who lie,
while he survived with real horrific dreams,
of Afghanistan where empires went to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem