je dois faire une etude lineaire en Anglais sur un poeme nommé trail of tears de Courtney Wilson (svp c'est très important)


A trail of tears seeping into the earth
dripping from our tired eyes,
our hearts beating like the funeral drum,
O, Great Spirit, do you hear our cries?

We fall like flies caught in the spider's web,
after their blood has been drank and their bones crushed,
they spiral to the earth to die and give life to the ground,
the white man keeps us hushed.

Our blood flows from our wounds like a river,
filling our footsteps as we go on, however big or small,
in these pastures of sadness, in these plains of horror,
our legs become too tired, our throats become dry, and we fall.

A mother with her child strapped to her back,
falls to the ground like the dead fly in the spider web,
child crying and bleating for the return of his mother,
our numbers bury on top of each other, our race ebbs.

Sicknesses befall our people as we walk,
stealing away more lives and more souls,
hearts beating weakly on this trail of tears,
wonder if we will die out as a whole.

Sing the songs of our mothers,
sing to the skies and the newly born,
the dusty plains and the clear waters,
the roses with their intriguing thorns.

Sing the songs of lament,
of our broken spirits and aching hearts,
to this great graveyard that we walk through,
as we watch our loved ones depart.

Wading through the countless fallen bodies,
thick with the stench of the deceased with numb fingers,
the mothers kneel with their children pale and embrace the lifeless,
waiting again for the stealing of souls, for the death bringer.

Our hair once tumbled down our backs,
proud locks of life and family cascades,
now we cut them and throw them into the river,
but the pride in our bones will never fade.

Great Spirit, do you hear our prayers,
interwoven to you in our joy or in our fears,
do you see our race dying, falling like flies?
O, we'll sing our songs of lament on this trail of tears.