Comment 1 of 1, added on November 3rd, 2012 at 2:41 AM.
comment
I’m not of cinders, nor am I gold
I’m the forgotten patriot, and so I sing it:
Summer days and winter nights
On harsh prairies and mining sites
North and south and west and east
Give in utmost and get the least
Of country bread and milk and fruit
Fat masters eat and shadows loot
Trade not in honor, always toil
Have little rest, your bed on soil
Enter the mines and wish way out
Fire of the mills luxury sprout
Of blood and sweat railways straighten
Road and highways you build and strengthen
Greedy boss, low stand his money
Of strenuous bee he reaps the honey
Tires he never and often sleeps
Trout and meat in ugly lips
End of month, old symphony
News of wage cacophony
Petty sum won’t fill a basket
At building bank, stand there and ask it
To you brave men the nation owes
Richness and wealth, yet hope she knows
If patience sleeps, nightmare she bears
Of the up rise their castle hears
True patriots, forgotten ones
Sit in darkness, their master bans.
Altair Laahad (All Rights Reserved)
Altair Laahad
Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Pool, has received one comment so far. Click here to read it, and perhaps post a comment of your own.
I’m not of cinders, nor am I gold
I’m the forgotten patriot, and so I sing it:
Summer days and winter nights
On harsh prairies and mining sites
North and south and west and east
Give in utmost and get the least
Of country bread and milk and fruit
Fat masters eat and shadows loot
Trade not in honor, always toil
Have little rest, your bed on soil
Enter the mines and wish way out
Fire of the mills luxury sprout
Of blood and sweat railways straighten
Road and highways you build and strengthen
Greedy boss, low stand his money
Of strenuous bee he reaps the honey
Tires he never and often sleeps
Trout and meat in ugly lips
End of month, old symphony
News of wage cacophony
Petty sum won’t fill a basket
At building bank, stand there and ask it
To you brave men the nation owes
Richness and wealth, yet hope she knows
If patience sleeps, nightmare she bears
Of the up rise their castle hears
True patriots, forgotten ones
Sit in darkness, their master bans.
Altair Laahad (All Rights Reserved)
Altair Laahad