From 8f85f37f827494216fb40a711b7ef9ea09320429 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Mahdi Dibaiee Date: Fri, 1 Jan 2021 15:45:14 +0000 Subject: [PATCH] fix poems --- snippets.md | 20 ++++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 20 insertions(+) diff --git a/snippets.md b/snippets.md index 097aef9..e704c16 100644 --- a/snippets.md +++ b/snippets.md @@ -141,21 +141,27 @@ Which bore so sweet a burden" ["Trees" (1913)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trees_(poem)) I think that I shall never see +
A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest +
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, +
And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear +
A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; +
Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, +
But only God can make a tree. ---- @@ -163,21 +169,35 @@ But only God can make a tree. [In Flanders Fields (1915)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_Flanders_Fields?wprov=sfti1) In Flanders fields the poppies blow +
Between the crosses, row on row, +
That mark our place; and in the sky +
The larks, still bravely singing, fly +
Scarce heard amid the guns below. +
We are the Dead. Short days ago +
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, +
Loved and were loved, and now we lie +
In Flanders fields. +
Take up our quarrel with the foe: +
To you from failing hands we throw +
The torch; be yours to hold it high. +
If ye break faith with us who die +
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow +
In Flanders fields. -----