Bellicose
After years, a long time;
-we spoke, he and I.
Then he was a sergeant,
-I was an officer,
-both involved in sports
-and line of logistic
-of Air Force.
I had killed the ranking
-between us;
-no talk of bars, stars.
Sports meant
-be good and Human.
And result was great
-everything was super.
We had a commander
-one star general.
He and I shared first name
-but nothing, nothing else!
In him was Bellicose.
In the morning prays
-he carried the scissors
-to cut the uniforms,
-which were not well-ironed.
Oh, he was…difficult.
Though not such good pilot
-great were his mask-face;
-kicked butt of lower ranks,
-kissed ass of those above
-bent and bowed…
-and polished their apples
-to climb…
History is full of generals
-governors, police and officers
- (who, like him bark as dogs!)
Came the time that people
-revolted, resisted
-and opposed the puppets
-of White House, Washington
-and the world, which is led
-by Devil-led-Devils…
In such times stampede
-is a sword, drops, kills
-innocent and guilty…
"Run! "
"Run! "
"Run! "
"Run! "
"Run! "
"Run! "
Had become slogan.
And among escapees
-were many generals
-one of them Nasrallah.
The Sergeant, my friend
-put the boss in trunk
-and drove to border;
-handed him to people
-who worked as smugglers.
In such world of nonsense
-that sky and the Earth
-streets and gardens
-none can be relied on,
-nothing is stable,
-why not be human?
-why blow Trumpet?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem