She has no ribbons of pink or blue,
On her hair are not flowers and girly pins.
She doesn’t don laces and frills,
She carries bandoliers of ammunition
For her AK47 or M16.
No lipsticks or blush on,
Instead paint camouflaged on her face,
She knows how to stitch and sew
And also how to detonate land mines
And C4 bombs.
She will love you like poetry,
Unfathomable love for her country,
She is a mother, a daughter, a lover
A sister, a wife.
She is a red amazon,
Beautiful like the moon,
Deadly like the storm.
She is revolution,
Along with the browbeaten millions,
The midwife of change,
The actor of class contradictions!