Chatgpt poetry about your ethnicity

[dviz]

ai is oversimplifying nation to location and then writes at each about bravery, unity, u know, beautiful stuff, it's nice but so cliche at the same time, it's impressive as for AI still but I would prefer to read poetry about my nation made by real poets, they could add motives characteristic for your nation/ethnicity

You can ask it to avoid all that, here's an example about ancient Dacia:

The night breeze whispers soft and low,
As Dacia sleeps beneath the stars' glow,
Zalmoxe's shadow stretches long and thin,
A specter of the ancient world within.

His voice, a murmur on the wind,
Calls out to those who long have sinned,
But in the dark, he cannot be seen,
His presence felt in visions and dreams.

A thousand years have come and gone,
Yet still his legend carries on,
Of gods and myths and magic spells,
Whose echoes through the ages dwell.

And so, the night remains his own,
A realm of shadows, truth unknown,
Where Zalmoxe wanders free and wild,
The ancient spirit of a forgotten child.

[Zohor]

You can ask it to avoid all that, here's an example about ancient Dacia:

The night breeze whispers soft and low,
As Dacia sleeps beneath the stars' glow,
Zalmoxe's shadow stretches long and thin,
A specter of the ancient world within.

His voice, a murmur on the wind,
Calls out to those who long have sinned,
But in the dark, he cannot be seen,
His presence felt in visions and dreams.

A thousand years have come and gone,
Yet still his legend carries on,
Of gods and myths and magic spells,
Whose echoes through the ages dwell.

And so, the night remains his own,
A realm of shadows, truth unknown,
Where Zalmoxe wanders free and wild,
The ancient spirit of a forgotten child.

"Dacia sleeps beneath the stars glow" there is a location
also this is the ancient dead tribe yet is still talks about how glorious it was since people talk bout it after "a thousand years have come and gone", Dacia was not a thing for over 1500 years
well you can ask, but still chat sometimes fail and it seems it failed, also lied a bit just to make it sound good and credible which is afaik gpt's main purpose

[ÁGUIA]

Chatgpt upon the request about Northern Portuguese ignored completely people from Trás-os-Montes and only mentioned Porto and Minho. The prejudice reached Artificial Intelligence. Anyways after further inquiring it managed to deliver with some efficiency.

Trás-os-Montes

Trás os Montes, land of the north,
Where rugged mountains tower forth,
Peaks and valleys, a stunning view,
A place where nature reigns anew.


The air is crisp, the sky so blue,
The rivers run and the trees so true,
Wild and free, the landscapes roam,
A masterpiece, from nature's own.


The people here are warm and kind,
Living in peace, without a bind,
They work the land, with sweat and toil,
Farming, crafting, with all their loyal.


In the winter, the snow will fall,
Covering everything, one and all,
But come the spring, life will renew,
Flowers bloom, in shades of hue.


Trás-os-Montes, a world apart,
A peaceful haven, for every heart,
A place where time stands still,
And beauty flows, at its own will.

Transmontanos

In the mountains of Trás-os-Montes,
Where the land is wild and free,
Lives a hardy people, proud and strong,
Known as Transmontanos to thee.


Their language is rugged, their voices deep,
Their songs are filled with passion and pride,
Their culture and traditions cannot hide.


With stoic faces and weathered hands,
They work the land from dawn till dusk,
And raising livestock without a fuss.


Their food is hearty, their wine is rich,
Their hospitality warm and sincere,
A stranger to their homes and hearts,
Is never far from a warm welcome, my dear.


Transmontanos may be few in number,
But their spirits are mighty and bold,
Their love for their land runs deep and true,
Making them a treasure to behold.

[Melkiirs]

PA Dutch:

"In the heart of the East, where farmlands sprawl,
A culture thrives, the Pennsylvania Dutch call.
Through verdant hills and valleys they roam,
Their customs and heritage, a cherished tome.

In quaint red barns, their stories are etched,
Of toil and labor, their lives perfected.
Their dialect, a blend of old and new,
A tapestry of words, a vibrant hue.

With roots in Europe, their ancestors came,
Bringing traditions, a legacy to claim.
A melting pot of Germanic delight,
Blending with American dreams so bright.

In harvest time, the fields all a-swarm,
With bountiful crops, their spirits warm.
A sense of community, strong and true,
In barn raisings and feasts, they renew.

Their meals a feast of savory delight,
Potpie, schnitz un knepp, and shoofly pie,
With pretzels twisted, fresh and warm,
The taste of home, a comforting charm.

In hex signs painted, colors bold,
Protection sought, as stories are told.
Their faith and folklore intertwined,
In whispers of the past, they find.

Beneath quilts stitched with love's embrace,
Their warmth pervades, a sacred space.
A heritage stitched in every thread,
Uniting generations, it has spread.

Pennsylvania Dutch, a treasure's chest,
A culture rich, uniquely blessed.
Their legacy, a testament of grace,
In their embrace, we find our place."

Litvak Jewish:

"In lands where Baltic breezes blow,
Where tales of Litvaks come aglow,
A legacy of brilliance cast,
In hearts and minds, forever last.

In Vilnius' streets, a cradle lay,
Where scholars' minds would pave the way,
A lineage of wisdom bright,
A beacon in the darkest night.

From ancient scrolls, their knowledge grew,
With fervent hearts and minds anew,
In yeshivas, they sought the truth,
And kindled flames in hopeful youth.

With intellect and deep insight,
They sought to understand the light,
In Talmud's pages, they'd explore,
The mysteries of life's grandeur.

Through shifting sands of history,
They wandered far, a destiny,
To distant lands, their journeys wove,
Their heritage, a treasure trove.

In echoes of their mother tongue,
A language sung and stories spun,
Their culture's threads, a tapestry,
Connecting past to destiny.

In times of trial, they stood tall,
Their courage shining through it all,
With strength and grace, they faced the storm,
And kept their faith, a steadfast form.

Oh, Litvaks, bearers of the flame,
Your legacy, a cherished name,
In hearts of those you've touched and known,
Your light and wisdom brightly shown.

From Vilnius' streets to lands afar,
Your brilliance like the northern star,
Litvaks, forever we'll embrace,
Your spirit's glow, a timeless grace."

Irish:

"In verdant lands of ancient lore,
Where legends dance on Celtic floor,
There dwells a spirit strong and true,
The heart of Ireland, ever anew.

Emerald fields stretch far and wide,
Where fairies frolic, and banshees glide,
The hills and valleys, a painted scene,
Where every stone, a tale's routine.

In pubs, the laughter rings like gold,
As Guinness pours, the stories unfold,
A jovial soul, a warm embrace,
A gathering of the Irish race.

Their history sings a tragic song,
Of struggles fought and rights for long,
From famine's tears to freedom's fight,
They rose with courage, shining bright.

Bards and poets, their voices rise,
With lyrical beauty, they mesmerize,
Each word a dance, a melody,
Their heritage, a legacy.

St. Patrick's clover, lucky charm,
Protects from harm, with open arms,
And as the bagpipes loudly play,
Their melodies will never sway.

On rugged cliffs by wild seas' roar,
They stand defiant, hearts adore,
The crashing waves, a fierce embrace,
Their spirit bound to this hallowed place.

So here's to Irish, bold and free,
A nation's pride, a melody,
With eyes of mischief, hearts of gold,
In tales and songs, their stories told."

Polish:

"In lands of storied history, a nation strong,
Where melodies of past and present throng,
Amidst lush fields and hills so gently rolled,
A treasure called Poland, forever bold.

In amber dusk, the legends come alive,
As tales of valor and love ever strive,
From Baltic shores to Carpathian heights,
Resilient spirits, free as soaring kites.

In Warsaw's heart, where phoenixes take flight,
From ashes risen, hope ignites the night,
Majestic castles guard the memories dear,
Of kings and queens who once ruled without fear.

The Vistula's embrace, a silver thread,
Through Krakow's charm and tales widely spread,
With market square that bustles with delight,
A dancing waltz that lasts into the night.

Oh, Wieliczka! Your salt-sculpted halls,
A symphony of time within stone walls,
And Gdansk, by the sea's enchanting grace,
A cradle of freedom, a peaceful place.

The hearty feast of pierogi and more,
Each flavor whispers tales from days of yore,
With warm hospitality, hearts entwined,
A banquet shared, forever in our mind.

Polish souls, fierce and gentle as a breeze,
Enduring hearts, as old as ancient trees,
Through trials faced, with unity they stand,
Preserving culture, heritage so grand.

In every dance, the Polonaise's sway,
In every note, the Chopin's magic lay,
The art and science, wisdom passed along,
A gift to the world, a cherished song.

So here's to Poland, land of pride and grace,
Where history and dreams embrace,
In every verse and story to be told,
A nation cherished, in hearts enfold."