Where does war end?
Where's the windup of bullets' pain;
Where's the end of grenade's lane;
Where's the extreme of wild dreads,
And where's the bound of frightening threats?
Where's the end of killings
And where's the heart of feelings
Where're the instruments of thought for humanity
And where does speech come out with no profanity?
In the oasis of aggrieved society,
Where dream diminishes with fraility
Of hopes,
Where longings desertify,
Where tranquility of feelings intensify by worthless atrocity,
And where heartsease of body, mind and soul
In the world of purity is far beyond to lull
As had humans done
In the untold abode of joys of the bygone-
Is the world of mess and war-speaking war.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem