Mark not this spot of desolation
Through war-time's makeshift reaction
Of whose crosses, gun-struck for
Appearances are, and helmeted;
As where life, as an option is
Crossed out, through love's own crisis;
No less rushed. A slammed doorway's.
Once kissed through; away from, sped.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem