Sie marschierten durch den Sturm,
so müde, so kalt
aber die Soldaten trampelte auf ihrem Weg
mehr als durch den Schnee und Eis-
quand ils ont finalement atteint leur limite
sur la périphérie du champ de bataille
les soldats ont diminué,
tomber comme des mouches .. un par un.
Nahulog ang kanilang mga kaibigan,
kanilang mga pamilya
sila nahulog sa mga diwa ng mga taong marched na gabi
at sila ay hindi makakuha ng up.
Il buio della loro nemici feasted sul loro anime
dissolvendo l'unica speranza di tornare a questa terra
i soldati hanno marciato attraverso la tempesta invano quella notte.
Así que ver a nuestros soldados caída
y vemos el mundo fuera a quemar
lo que vino de esta guerra?
Pero nada más guerra.
Κρατάμε την καταπολέμηση,
-πάνω από ό, τι δεν
Γιατί κανείς δεν καταλαβαίνει ακόμα
ακριβώς αυτό που είμαστε.
So often does human kind criticize each other for our faults,
whether it be because of our
race, our ethnicity, our sex, or what food we may prefer-
we pick fights over the smallest things
but none of realize that the mistakes one makes
everyone else makes.
So why fight over it?
When we criticize one another for what we've done,
we're critiquing the human race.
Because that's all we are. We're human, and we're equal.
Stop this war and bring our soldiers home. We can't lose more souls.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have no idea how I got the inspiration to do this poem in different languages. I know I missed a lot, but I just picked them out.
First stanza: German
Second: French
Third: Filipino (or so it said)
Fourth: Italian
Fifth: Spanish
Sixth: Greek
Seventh: English, obviously....
 XxFragmented_RealityxX · Wed Aug 19, 2009 @ 02:36am · 0 Comments |
