talking of rebellion she said,
as she slide down the banister,
crying Tally Ho zipping along,
landing with grace she smiled.
I'm not a communist she said
me neither I answered.
we both knew one of us was lying,
you had on your wall a picture of Marx.
taffeta rustling you swished up the hall
well, I said, revolution takes all sorts and we laughed.
it echoed down the halls of academia and echos still
that solid reverberation of our rebellious hearts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem