Please do not insult her by calling her courageous
Allow her the privilege of fear
She was shaking like a tree
Like any child of her age would …
She was a mere child…
She might have loved the jungle
With all its pristine innocence
She trusted the jungle
Like she would trust her mother…
She might have loved flowers
The butterflies, her friends and the rivers
Hurtling down from the mountain…
You see, she was a mere child
Allow her the privilege of fear….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem