Some say that pens are more dangerous than guns,
Words are more harmful than bullets.
If men of honour aren’t our kind,
Better to go home, shut the doors,
Hope for a saviour and fight no more.

Some say that war is preferable to peace,
Death is more honourable than defeat.
If theatre of war isn’t our kind,
Better to back off, close the gates,
Hope for peace and strike no more.

Bullets in our left leg won’t stop us walking.
We keep walking this dark path together.
We are on our way to victory.
Our bond is fertilised by blood.
Our fight has just begun.

Bullets in our left chest won’t stop us climbing,
We keep climbing upward on our miseries.
We are on our way to victory.
Our glory is secured by death.
Our fight will never end.

Some say that love is more poisonous than hatred,
Pretty is more deceitful than ugly.
If women of fate aren’t our kind,
Better to go to bed, close the eyes,
Hope for a nice dream and justify no more.

Some say that a few is more than many,
Soft is more powerful than hard.
If the will of heaven isn’t our kind,
Better to end the show, bring down the curtain,
Hope for a miracle and pray no more.

Our glory is secured by death.
Our bond is fertilised by blood.
Our fight has just begun.
Our fight will never end.
-------------------------------
THE END

Knowing a beauty is my fortune
Only disasters can change it
I will be writing lines about her
Will be sharing life with her
To see the world with her
And to be seen together with her

Knowing a beauty is my fortune
She has been waiting for me across the sea
Im sorry i still have to do this and that
Only my lines can reach her heart
Hope she can hear my soulful voice

Knowing a beauty is my fortune
Only miracles can change it
I will be singing poems for her
Will be sharing happiness with her
To see the world with her
And to be seen together with her

Knowing a beauty is my fortune
Nothing can change it
————————-
THE END

The king sits unhonoured on his throne
As his soldiers are running away from the front line
The queen lies with honour on her bed
As her armies are marching to their own death
Fathers of freedom are mourning for their dead sons
Mothers of wisdom are crying for their lost daughters

Are there any people luckier than us whose parents miss their children?
Are there any poets luckier than us whose lovers can hear their lines?
What else can our parents miss? What else can our lovers hear?
Drum beats are calling, war is answering

The prince eats his breakfast lustily in his dining room
As his battalions are covering death with victory
The princess puts her make-up sensually in her bedroom
As her legions are facing death in the battlefield
Husbands of widows are fighting for their wives‘life
Wives of widowers are waiting for their husbands' victory

Are there any places better than ours which soil offers peace?
Are there any poems better than ours which lines give peace?
What else can our places offer? What else can our poems give?
Clocks are ticking, peace is waiting
---------------------------
THE END

Tears are spent but no dreams have become real
Blood is shed but no peace has come
Faith is sold out but no victories have won
Hopes are endangered but no miracles have happened

Are we too young to hit puberty?
Are we too young to taste liberty?
Are we too young to feel guilty?
Are we too young to remain silent?

The moon goes back to the time of darkness
The sun goes back to the time of brightness
The season goes back to the time of silence
The road goes back thousand miles

Are we too young to commit sins?
Are we too young to know miseries?
Are we too young to feel young?
Are we too young to remain silent?

There is a choice between right and wrong
We still can redeem the past, justify the future
Let history become our witness
We never surrender to faith

Are we too young to remain silent?
Are we too quiet to remain silent?
Let this quiet silence rise to power
We will fight together till the end
————————————-
THE END