Death of the Warrior

People,
uproot the piles of bones
let the skulls run
down the steep slopes
of Kaimakchalan.
They say,
the grass burned on the stone,
the mother wept for her son,
time forgot the mother.
I don’t know who with whom
or who for whom on what day
lifted up his spirit like mist
which grazes in the shadows of night…
They came across the open sea
to break in waves
on Kaimakchalan.
Maybe by one skull lies
the skull of him who killed,
Skull resemble
stones.
I don’t know who with whom
or who for whom on what day,
but this mass of bones
frightens me!