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Poem	The drum of war thunders and thunders. It calls: thrust iron into the living. From every country slave after slave are thrown onto bayonet steel. For the sake of what? The earth shivers hungry and stripped. Mankind is vapourised in a blood bath only so someone somewhere can get hold of Albania. Human gangs bound in malice, blow after blow strikes the world only for someone’s vessels to pass without charge through the Bosporus. Soon the world won’t have a rib intact. And its soul will be pulled out. And trampled down only for someone, to lay their hands on Mesopotamia. Why does a boot crush the Earth — fissured and rough? What is above the battles’ sky - Freedom? God? Money! When will you stand to your full height, you, giving them your life? When will you hurl a question to their faces: Why are we fighting? Translated: by Lika Galkina with Jasper Goss, 2005.
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