Tác giả: Triệu Nguyên Tâm
The Killing Fields Of Ukraine
The dead bodies of people floating in the rivers
Corpses scattered on the wheat fields
Many of these bodies drying on the rooftops
Or rotten in the small alleys.
They felt so cold on the step stones of the cathedrall hall.
And lay motionless behind the porch of deserted houses
The rain is falling on them, like the tears of their souls
Weeping in the darkness of these haunted towns.
They died old and young,
the children still wrapped inside their mothers’ arms.
They died in their sleep by artillery and missile explosions
They died screaming with burns from white phosphorus dropped from the sky.
Spring will certainly come again
And these human flesh and bones will make a good fertilizer
For the growing sun flowers and the green wheat fields
The sun will rise every morning, the moon and stars still shining as ever.
Triệu Nguyên Tâm
November 3, 2022.
The dead bodies of people floating in the rivers
Corpses scattered on the wheat fields
Many of these bodies drying on the rooftops
Or rotten in the small alleys.
They felt so cold on the step stones of the cathedrall hall.
And lay motionless behind the porch of deserted houses
The rain is falling on them, like the tears of their souls
Weeping in the darkness of these haunted towns.
They died old and young,
the children still wrapped inside their mothers’ arms.
They died in their sleep by artillery and missile explosions
They died screaming with burns from white phosphorus dropped from the sky.
Spring will certainly come again
And these human flesh and bones will make a good fertilizer
For the growing sun flowers and the green wheat fields
The sun will rise every morning, the moon and stars still shining as ever.
Triệu Nguyên Tâm
November 3, 2022.