House blown to pile of rubble
Neighbours frantic
Digging with hands
Hoping to find survivors.
Only dead retrieved
From under rubble
Comes faint voice
Can death be cheated?
Air-raid warden kneels
Pulls aside bricks
Reaches down
Holds child's hand.
Fingers squeeze his hand
Hole widened
Boy lifted free
Up into sunlight.
Weeping, air-raid warden
Carries whimpering boy
Down street
Into waiting ambulance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem