POEM FROM THE TRENCHES

 

 

Life in the trenches

Bombs whistling, agonizing screams, and the incessant sound of gunfire.

That’s all I can hear

Wet shoes, the rifle’s metal under my hands, and the sweat dripping down my face.

That’s all I can feel

The smell of moss, the gunfire’s powder, and the smell of burning flesh.

That's all I can smell

A tasteless soup, some filthy dust, and the bitterness of my blood.

That’s all I can taste

 A puddle of bullets around me, a smoky landscape, and the bodies of my fallen fellows.

That’s all I can see

 

Chiara Zadra

 

 

POEM FROM THE TRENCHES

 

I used to wake up to birdsong

now I am submerged in the sound of the bombs, 

by the painful screams of my companions;

 

When I wake up in the morning 

I don't know if I'll be alive before the evening comes

When I manage to survive the day, 

worries invade my mind again: 

and I wonder if my eyes will see the sun rise again.

I'm still alive only in hopes of seeing my mother waiting for me in vain, 

my love of life,

my friends with whom I spent my childhood.

In this life of war only the days 

when I receive letters from my loved ones make me happy.

 

Hey, flowing Wind 

Will you do me a favour?

Go back to my village,

say hi to my friends on my behalf 

Go to the place where the love of my life lives

give her a Kiss on my behalf

if you go a little further,

you'll reach my home

my old mother lives there 

Go and make her feel my presence

 

Hey, flowing Wind 

please go and give them this message for me:

I will be back to my village

the promise that I made to my old mother

I will keep that promise

I will be back!

I will be back!

 

Sometimes letters of my mother come to me

these letters agonize me,

bring along all the memories of my childhood

In these letters she always asks me a question 

a question that never seems to get old

When are you coming home?

Because the village's road and the house where you spent your childhood 

seem quiet and lonely without you.

 

A lady who is gorgeous 

has written me a letter.

She asked me to write back 

When will  you be home?

Because my heart is lonely without you 

Her scanted mornings,

Her restless evening,

Her lonely nights,

Our incomplete conversations 

and Her wishful eyes are asking me the same question:

When will you be home?

 

Tehseen Arshad

POEM FROM THE TRENCHES

 

 

War poem

Trench I don’t know how to call you

you protect us from the fire

but I also hate you.

 

Without you we die 

with you we die

only a small part survives thanks to you.

 

You give us the illusion of life

but we know that we will die

With no War no Trench and no DEATH.

Riccardo Carlin

 

POEM FROM THE TRENCHES

 

 

 

My dear Lory

I haven’t written to you for a long time, I know…

And you miss me, and you’re worried, I know…

And you can't wait for me to come back, I know.

I’m fine.

I’m fine, but don’t feel anything

Fine, but I’m tired

I’m tired to sacrifice myself every day, 

Tired of seeing soldiers suffering every day

Suffer with them…

I will be back soon, I promise you,

Even if the time seems to have stopped

Remember that I love you,

And because of your absence my heart is blocked.

 

Nicoleta Titica