The Third of September
Nineteen thirty-nine is a
Day I remember well.
I travelled on a Southdown bus
From Purbrook to Cosham,
And my memory rings a bell.
The bus suddenly stopped.
The driver had bad news to tell.
His voice was loud and clear
All passengers could hear.
'Everyone off - it has to be.
We are at war with Germany'.
September 1939...the month
of my eleventh birthday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem