Native American Culture

Will Our Children Live…

A lonesome warrior stands in fear of what the future brings,
he will never hear the beating drums or the songs his brothers sing.

Our many nations once stood tall and ranged from shore to shore
but most are gone and few remain and the buffalo roam no more.

We shared our food and our land and gave with open hearts,
we wanted peace and love and hope, but all were torn apart.

All this was taken because we did not know what the white man had in store,
they killed our people and raped our lands and the buffalo roam no more.

But those of us who still remain hold our heads up high, and the spirits of
the elders flow through us as if they never died.

Our dreams will live on forever and our nations will be reborn, our bone and
beads and feathers all will be proudly worn.

If you listen close you will hear the drums and the songs upon the winds, and in
the distance you will see… the buffalo roam again.


BY: Patricia Caixeirinho

Lost Generation

POR SUGESTÃO DO NOSSO COLEGA DAMIEN FIALHO:




BY: Teresa Guerreiro

Poem - Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

W.H. Davies

Experiencia

This blog aims at sharing ideas in English, taking into account the topics and issues discussed in class at ESDG or triggered out from those discussions and people's outlook. We will also share here support materials and written assignments.