The stands yawn empty over the grass below

but it’s not a soccer field that awaits down there

it’s the dead — bones, once flesh and blood,

resting buried beneath the headstones

 

or some were never found

they were lost att see, blown apart

and beneath their gravestones

nothing rests.

 

As the 100-year anniversary approaches

the war awaits the tourists

I sit in the stands

watching the game go on

 

I see a commercial spectacle

but I also hear the wind of

history written years later

it will never rest.

 

Här går jag i det marken minns
fördjupningar i jorden som
inte är naturliga

det är sol idag men
även vid Dardanellerna
regnar det och
blir gyttjigt ibland