The school-bell is a call to battle,
every step to class, a step into the firing-line.
Here is the target, fine skin at the temple,
cheek still rounded from being fifteen.
Surrendered, surrounded, she
takes the bullet in the head
and walks on. The missile cuts
a pathway in her mind, to an orchard
in full bloom, a field humming under the sun,
its lap open and full of poppies.
This girl has won
the right to be ordinary,
wear bangles to a wedding, paint her fingernails,
go to school. Bullet, she says, you are stupid.
You have failed. You cannot kill a book
or the buzzing in it.
A murmur, a swarm. Behind her, one by one,
the schoolgirls are standing up
to take their places on the front line.
ORDINARY HEART CAN WIN ALL WITHOUT DEFEATING ANYONE; THE GIRL WAS ORDINARY AND WON THE RIGHTS TO BE ORDINARY MORE; SUPERB POEM
The schoolgirls are standing up to take their places on the front line. You are right. A book can never be killed. This poem is very sensitive and thought provoking....10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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