One war ends, another rages.
We study history, we turn the pages.
There must be a better world somewhere,
a place of peace and hope.
A sidewalk café, young lovers
hear no guns, no political jazz,
they only hear with eyes and lips
a breathless kiss.
Some of us war all life through
till death whispers a final yearning
for silent peace.
The history book lingers pleading,
the wine is poured, blue candle light
is all around me as cannon sounds
murmur soft hymns, another requiem
for dead lovers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem