Sonnet To The War Cemeteries Poem by Alexandro Johns

A prairie of crosses with the order of death
For young men turned now into stones.
Names without face for an eternal present
Where there is no anguish of parents or brides' tears.

Homeland is a mother who suckles with blood,
The flags are its nets for catching children
And it marks their foreheads with the sign of war
When it wishes according to the order of the time.

These dead persons didn't live as sunflowers,
Under the sun they were men with own light
To inquire into pleasures and night, like everyone.

The war combats are between strangers
Their graves show no pain and they seem empty.
Youth lost in battle only breed forgetfulness.