Self-translation into English.
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In the Sumerian School

If it all feels too much - take a breath, take a pause, and read at leisure, why not,
About what happened - way back when? - in Sumerian schools, what they were taught:
How the guard and the overseer would beat all the student without hesitation;
How the teacher would break their clay tablets, not in rage, only for maintain regulation;
How the rod would fall on shoulders and backs: methodically, precisely, with ease;
How they suffered for their talking there, for their smiles and for silence, for failing to please.
No turning your head, and keeping head down - stay bowed, stay quiet, stay broken, stay stopped,
Only hearing: "Your hand is extremely poor, your mind is lazy, and bad and unopened.”
And if you endured it all, you survived, you made it through to the school’s cold ending -
Then reward awaited the obedient, the meek - and now a scribe’s revered standing.
And let others now wince beneath the rod – let the beatings resume their rhythmed score…

But you can’t remember: it was Sumer, some dusty alley of distant yore.
It wasn’t you who shrank beneath the gaze from above, slight, alone, erased,
It wasn’t you with swollen hands copying clay tablets in trembling haste,
And it wasn't you biting lips till they bled, refusing bitter tears to fall,
And it wasn't you, who stood up and broke the damned rod once and for all.

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Thanks to Leah Borovoi for valuable suggestions for improving the text.