we conquer strange woods;
Little we are;
Nature's right hand.
we conquer the seas;
we conquer great hills.
The Queen our mother;
our soldiers ready to murder;
Our lands are great;
our workers work sane.
For two classes we are;
Soldiers or Workers;
The trees tremble at our sight;
our antennas set for great heights.
The Queen still remains so;
A fraternal binding;
no loose chord, no binding.
The Queen is mother to all;
she fuels our pride and thoughts;
The Queen is mother to us;
she makes light the fraternal cause.
Little we are;
yet eyes set on great sights.
our lives benefit nature so.
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Comments about this poem (Savannah's Finest by udoh etido )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(June 27, 1936 - February 13, 2010)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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