Rhyming in pain: What famous poets have to say about the loss of children
As many as 132 children were killed in Tuesday's attack on the Peshawar school
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quite birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there ,I did not die
Mary Elizabeth Frye
Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,
Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
He lay in the four-foot box as in his cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.
A four-foot box, a foot for every year.
Seamus Heaney
Published in The Express Tribune, December 18th, 2014.