Song of the Three Swallows Poem by Holly Karapetkova
Song of the Three Swallows
The leaves are no longer talking.
The pines are fighting with swords,
the oaks are fighting with fists.
The black birds are coming, black as ravens,
they will smother the sun from our sight.
Some say it is a heard of sheep,
some say it is goats for the slaughter,
but it is not sheep, nor goats.
It is the standing army coming, steady
as the black hand of the sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/29/2026 11:12:42 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Beautiful train of thought, well articulated and nicely penned in good poetic diction with conviction. An insightful poem elegantly encapsulated with insight. Thanks for sharing Holly. Please read my poem POETIC MASTERPIECE.