Iron Strings
In the land of the wild, where mountains loom tall,
Chinese laborers, they answered the call,
To build railroads out West, through valleys and peaks,
They toiled in silence, strong hearts, strong physiques.
From Guangdong and Fujian, they ventured afar,
Leaving homes and their families, to follow a star.
Through blistering sun and harsh winter’s cold breath,
They laid down the tracks, united in death.
With hands rough and calloused, and faces worn thin,
They bore the weight of a nation’s great spin.
Through sweat, blood, and tears, they pushed ever on,
As iron tracks stretched, from dusk until dawn.
Their names lost to history, their stories untold,
Yet their legacy endures, in the railroads of gold.
With pickaxes and shovels, they broke the rough earth,
A silent tribute to courage and unyielding worth.
Through tunnels they chiseled and bridges they made,
They connected a nation, their mark won’t fade.
In the heart of the West, where the railroads now span,
Chinese hands helped build the dreams of a land.
07/12/2024
Their story’s a part of the American tale,
Of hope, dreams, and courage that will never fail.
For the Chinese in the Northwest, who gave their all,
Their legacy lives on, in the great iron sprawl.
Copyright © Sharron Read-Lambert | Year Posted 2026
|