The Giant Oak Poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
The Giant Oak
And then the sound of marching armies 'woke
Amid the branches of the soldier oak,
And tempests ceased their warring cry, and dumb
The lashing storms that muttered, overcome,
Choked by the heralding of battle smoke,
When these gnarled branches beat their martial drum.
..............and the giant oak still stands......very nice...
Seems like the oak lost this battle, armies and wars remain profilic, but oak forests have fallen, oak tress continue to be cut down; while wars sadly continue to arise and escalate.
whenever i see an oak tree i think of its strength..legend has it if you carry an acorn you will never be struck by lightning.. good short poem..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 6:43:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
It is definitely a beautiful poem.