I am the poet of the world wars and walking through the land of tears.
Century of wars,  Poems

BUSHES

In a deserted field
Blood-soaked at
Where absolutely nothing grows
At the very edge
The farthest tip
A tiny miracle was born

To there at the back
At the very end
Can be seen faith
A tiny bush, that has green leaves
The most beautiful beauty of all beauties
On a gray field

The wind yowls further across the field
Is fanning a tiny bush leaves
Hope for the promise of life
Look in the middle
A small flower blooms
Out of nowhere

It’s a strange thing
Just step closer
Let you see that treacherous flower

That flower is not a flower
Not like each other
Took life and did not give
Took and will never give back
The eyes in the column to turn
Is over the war

(16/09/2001)

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