Strike a match and light the chaff
Tune the strings and shine the brass
Heroes of the day are resting
Some forever, some yearning
For a deep quiescent mind
For a peace without the pain
Beneath the skin is self-distain
In the fields of strike and shield
Together all can move to kill
Alone the thoughts they come too real
We moved to do what's right for us
They moved to do what's right for them
But deep within each feels the peace
Of close and sense and calm belief
That all is right and all is good
When in the fields of fear, we stood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem