Through the intricacies of life
There is woven some strife
Like the fallen
Whom came as they deemed their calling
To fight a war to end all wars.
Remembrance of the dead
100 years since their bodies were shred
What lessons have we learnt?
None! Still we send soldiers to be burnt.
In a war to end all wars.
Poets spoke, of horrors seen
Of dead eyes that no longer gleam.
Through mud and dirt that boil
Boy soldiers fall,
Sent to a war to end all wars.
Politicians only smile
As broken bodies trudge another mile
Open, shell hole graves
Shell shocked minds, vent words through mouths that rave,
About a war to end all wars.
Tolkien, Jones, Sassoon and Graves
Scribe moments of death, of men in graves,
Save a few that return
Write, but we do not learn
And engage in a war to end all war.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's a powerful and painful writing! There are wise people who speak out what they see and what they think of wars, and there are greedy people, for whom wars mean their profit while they can deceive the crowd and teach them to deceive themselves, and so they always can find pawns. And there are those who let themselves be deceived.