subota, 7. siječnja 2012.

Gray Haired Kids by Enes Kišević

All that man has made
Can again be on this sod
But they demolish even that
Which you made, dear Lord.

They divided You too -
Over us, to better care.
Ah, if they could they would
border the very air.


How small man is -
How overgrown with hate,
While roses smell sweet
Even for the plucker.

How can I not cry -
Saint's heart would break before
This sight of mothers bearing
Gray haired kids once more.

For which peace am I to die -
Peace has always been there -
I could hear it loud right now
If you silenced the guns.

For which land am I to fall -
I belong to this whole land.
And all innocent ones -
You will see, buried in me.




Original here.

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