Poems

No Gift from War

The rubber trees in father's plantation are almost ready to be cut
The trees stand unyielding still deeply rooted all over the plantation
The late sunlight shyly illuminates the green leaves and all the trunks
Fair dreams and hopes in profusion all over the hills
 
 
The blood of the father, the sweat of the son built this together
The body of the father is far away but his heart is not distant
all around the safe plantation waits for father to come walking
Not too late the rewards of almost old age.
 
The son's dream lies in the fathers dream
'The farmer' waits to become 'the brave  warrior'
Nongbualamphu is in the dream Banang Sata
Hoe spade machete wait day and night for him to put down his gun.
 
Retired from the battlefield
House and plantation are quiet. In the morning sunlight comes, birds
sing
smoke from the fire, water in the pot, tea waiting to be brewed,
the refreshing smell of oleander, the faint smell of gunsmoke!
 
The smooth hand held a  gun to keep the glass from falling
It was pleasant to sip tea and gossip with friends
Restraint all around the years and months used to go by quickly
Death warned him,  came to meet him many times.
 
Peace – to search for and build another way
Patrol – an old story told after the event
Duty – your children around you ready to listen
Fear – you don't need to be careful every day
 
A tiny dream, not intending to be a hero
right to the end hiding the light, unambitious
his family ask only for the return of the person he was
it's the gift left from war
 
The aspiration will never be extinguished
despite frequent nightmares the dream prevails
it's the dream of everyone for a long time to come
the dream in the middle of the conflagration of the battlefield.
 
The heart doesn't heal the heart until it can see
the country is a factory weaving flags for coffins
turning  out ever-increasing suffering
turning out buried hatred, hidden bravery.
 
Grandfathers : the white earth
once again absorbs flowing blood repeatedly enfolds it
Budo explodes shaking into Phupaankam
Nongbualamphu is cracked  by bad news.
 
Another dream replaces the good dream of Banang Sata
The secret has expired, worries sought, the secret chased away
It's a gift from the country, the last reward
Take the farmer away from his son forever.
 
The smallest dream and you end up being a hero!?
The supposed destination came after the fire set light to the dream
The farmhouse only waits for the return of that old man
Who destroyed the gift, took away the promise?