-
- The Tide
of War
-
- Across the harvested rice fields,
- Crawl the snakes of refugees,
- In the middle of the battlefield,
- They are long, as far as (I) eyes
can see.
-
- The enemy is running from behind,
- Running and chasing with all their might.
- Tripling our speed like storm-wind,
- Oh Buddha, w h y are we in such plight?
-
- Many wounded cry out in pain,
- Some cannot move 'cause of their blain.
-
- Across the mountains of hope, we wander
- There, we become the jungle survivors
-
- We swim through the sea of danger.
- We are driftwood
- Carried by the tide,
-
- And blown by the winds of war.
- We abscond in rain and thunder
- For days and nights,
- We are brave,
- Searching for freedom ashore.