Boy under the rubble
(London blitz 1940)
House blown to rubble
Neighbours frantic
Digging with hands
Hoping to find survivors.
Only dead retrieved
Then, under the rubble
Comes a faint voice.
Can death be cheated?
Air-raid warden kneels
Pulling bricks aside
Reaching down
Holds a child's hand.
Fingers squeeze his hand
Hole widened
And a boy is lifted free
Up into sunlight.
Weeping air-raid warden
Carries the boy safe
Down the street
Into a waiting ambulance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem