Faded photographs on a shelf
or hanging dust clad on a wall
women wearing long dresses
whose names we cant recall,
bearded men unsmiling
staring from a picture frame
long ago they were remembered
but now no one knows their name,
men in military uniforms
from wars we never knew,
framed faces in a photograph
from a time we never knew,
scribbled names within a Bible
births and deaths from long ago
now the names are unfamiliar
and who they were we'll never know,
but our ancestors are our history
of past triumphs and defeat
if we don't remember what they did
then their we will repeat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So true how I wish i could have met my grandparents in France..good poem a ten from me..