The Soldier

As the soldier years for his motherland,

Blows the motherly dust and sand,

For either a sacrifice he has to make,

Or not put his life at stake.

His giggling baby's laughter,

And the whole of his kin,

What will become of them after?

Will he lose or win?

But then he smelt the battlefield,

And the whole of his clan;

He realized that weapons he had to wield,

For the safety of each and every man.

(He wrote)

Don't worry mother,

I will come back soon,

Either as in your cap a feather,

Or wrapped in the tricoloured cocoon.

Oh! My patriarch! Or rather,

With whom I had so much fun,

Don't worry as it is said; In peace son buries father,

In war father buries son.

Sister, why so sad?

Your blessings on me are always clad,

I know you'll remember me as your brother,

I'll remember you as my second mother.

When the battle trumpet will blow,

When everyone will bow low,

And only will prevail the battle cry,

I will then know I WAS A SOLDIER MEANT TO DIE.