The Man Born to Farming

Related poetry:

1. The house where I was born (06) I woke up, but I was travelling, The train had rolled throughout the night, It was now going toward huge clouds That were standing, packed together, down there, Dawn rent from time to time by forks of lightning. I watched the advent of the world In the bushes of the embankment; and all at once […]...
2. The Too-Late Born We too, we too, descending once again The hills of our own land, we too have heard Far off – Ah, que ce cor a longue haleine – The horn of Roland in the passages of Spain, The first, the second blast, the failing third, And with the third turned back and climbed once more […]...
3. The house where I was born (10) And then life; and once again A house where I was born. Around us The granary above what once had been a church, The gentle play of shadow from the dawn clouds, And in us that smell of the dry straw That had seemed to be waiting for us From the moment the last sack, […]...
4. The house where I was born (02) I woke up, it was the house where I was born. It was raining softly in all the rooms, I went from one to another, looking at The water that shone on the mirrors Piled up everywhere, some broken or even Pushed between the furniture and the walls. It was from these reflections that sometimes […]...
5. Born Brothers Equality is absolute or no. Nothing between can stand. We are the sons Of the same sire, or madness breaks and runs Through the rude world. Ridiculous our woe If single pity does not love it. So Our separate fathers love us. No man shuns His poorest child’s embrace. We are the sons Of such, […]...
6. The house where I was born (01) I woke up, it was the house where I was born, Sea foam splashed against the rock, Not a single bird, only the wind to open and close the wave, Everywhere on the horizon the smell of ashes, As if the hills were hiding a fire That somewhere else was burning up a universe. I […]...
7. Garden Wireless HOW many feet ran with sunlight, water, and air? What little devils shaken of laughter, cramming their little ribs with chuckles, Fixed this lone red tulip, a woman’s mouth of passion kisses, a nun’s mouth of sweet thinking, here topping a straight line of green, a pillar stem? Who hurled this bomb of red caresses?-nodding […]...
8. On the Beach at Fontana Wind whines and whines the shingle, The crazy pierstakes groan; A senile sea numbers each single Slimesilvered stone. From whining wind and colder Grey sea I wrap him warm And touch his trembling fineboned shoulder And boyish arm. Around us fear, descending Darkness of fear above And in my heart how deep unending Ache of […]...
9. Like The Water Like the water Of a deep stream, Love is always too much. We did not make it. Though we drink till we burst, We cannot have it all, Or want it all. In its abundance It survives our thirst. In the evening we come down to the shore To drink our fill, And sleep, While […]...
10. Mossbawn: Two Poems in Dedication 1. Sunlight There was a sunlit absence. The helmeted pump in the yard Heated its iron, Water honeyed In the slung bucket And the sun stood Like a griddle cooling Against the wall Of each long afternoon. So, her hands scuffled Over the bakeboard, The reddening stove Sent its plaque of heat Against her where […]...
11. The house where I was born (04) Another time. It was still night. Water slid Silently on the black ground, And I knew that my only task would be To remember, and I laughed, I bent down, I took from the mud A pile of branches and leaves, I lifted up the whole dripping mass In arms I held close to my […]...
12. The Mysteries Remain The mysteries remain, I keep the same Cycle of seed-time And of sun and rain; Demeter in the grass, I multiply, Renew and bless Bacchus in the vine; I hold the law, I keep the mysteries true, The first of these To name the living, dead; I am the wine and bread. I keep the […]...
13. The house where I was born (08) I open my eyes, yes, it’s the house where I was born, Exactly as it was and nothing more. The same small dining room whose window Gives onto a peach tree that never grows. A man and a woman are seated At this window, facing one another, They are talking, for once. And the child […]...
14. The Native-Born We’ve drunk to the Queen God bless her! We’ve drunk to our mothers’ land; We’ve drunk to our English brother, (But he does not understand); We’ve drunk to the wide creation, And the Cross swings low for the mom, Last toast, and of Obligation, A health to the Native-born! They change their skies above them, […]...
15. The Captive Not with an outcry to Allah nor any complaining He answered his name at the muster and stood to the chaining. When the twin anklets were nipped on the leg-bars that held them, He brotherly greeted the armourers stooping to weld them. Ere the sad dust of the marshalled feet of the chain-gang swallowed him, […]...
16. The house where I was born (03) I woke up, it was the house where I was born, It was night, trees were crowding On all sides around our door, I was alone on the doorstep in the cold wind, No, not alone, for two huge beings Were speaking to each other above me, through me. One, behind, an old woman, stooped, […]...
17. The house where I was born (09) And then the day came When I heard the extraordinary lines in Keats, The evocation of Ruth “when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn.” I did not need to search for the meaning Of these words, For it was in me since childhood, I had only to recognize and to […]...
18. To Those Born After To the cities I came in a time of disorder That was ruled by hunger. I sheltered with the people in a time of uproar And then I joined in their rebellion. That’s how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth. I ate my dinners between the battles, I lay […]...
19. At Burgos Miraculous silver-work in stone Against the blue miraculous skies, The belfry towers and turrets rise Out of the arches that enthrone That airy wonder of the skies. Softly against the burning sun The great cathedral spreads its wings; High up, the lyric belfry sings. Behold Ascension Day begun Under the shadow of those wings!...
20. On The Skeleton Of A Hound Nightfall, that saw the morning-glories float Tendril and string against the crumbling wall, Nurses him now, his skeleton for grief, His locks for comfort curled among the leaf. Shuttles of moonlight weave his shadow tall, Milkweed and dew flow upward to his throat. Now catbird feathers plume the apple mound, And starlings drowse to winter […]...
21. Lesson In Grammar THE SENTENCE Perhaps I can make it plain by analogy. Imagine a machine, not yet assembled, Each part being quite necessary To the functioning of the whole: if the job is fumbled And a vital piece mislaid The machine is quite valueless, The workers will not be paid. It is just the same when constructing […]...
22. Sonnet VIII: Love, Born In Greece Love, born in Greece, of late fled from his native place, Forc’d by a tedious proof, that Turkish harden’d heart Is no fit mark to pierce with his fine pointed dart, And pleas’d with our soft peace, stayed here his flying race. But finding these north climes do coldly him embrace, Not used to frozen […]...
23. The Song Of The Soldier-Born Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant; Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant; Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant. Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion; A soldier’s billet at night and a soldier’s ration; A heart […]...
24. Words Be careful of words, Even the miraculous ones. For the miraculous we do our best, Sometimes they swarm like insects And leave not a sting but a kiss. They can be as good as fingers. They can be as trusty as the rock You stick your bottom on. But they can be both daisies and […]...
25. He, who was born He, who was born in stagnant year Does not remember own way. We, kids of Russia’s years of fear, Remember every night and day. Years that burned everything to ashes! Do you bring madness or grace? The war’s and freedom’s fire flashes Left bloody light on every face. We are struck dumb: the toxsin’s pressure […]...
26. Never Born THE TIME has gone by. The child is dead. The child was never even born. Why go on? Why so much as begin? How can we turn the clock back now And not laugh at each other As ashes laugh at ashes?...
27. The Country Of Marriage I. I dream of you walking at night along the streams Of the country of my birth, warm blooms and the nightsongs Of birds opening around you as you walk. You are holding in your body the dark seed of my sleep. II. This comes after silence. Was it something I said That bound me […]...
28. The house where I was born (05) In the same dream I am lying in the hollow of a boat, My forehead and eyes against the curved planks Where I can hear the undercurrents Striking the bottom of the boat. All at once, the prow rises up, And I think that we’ve come to the estuary, But I keep my eyes against […]...
29. The house where I was born (07) I remember, it was a morning, in summer, The window was half-open, I drew near, I could see my father at the end of the garden. He was motionless, looking for something, I could not tell what, or where, beyond the world, His body was already bent over, but his gaze Was lifted toward the […]...
30. Questions and a Prayer For a New Born Baby So, here you are once more – in a brand new perfect body; An old soul with a brand new life to explore. And my mind is filled with so many things I want to ask you, So many questions that I’ve forgotten the answers to. I don’t want to ask you about your future, […]...
31. Water I was born in a drouth year. That summer My mother waited in the house, enclosed In the sun and the dry ceaseless wind, For the men to come back in the evenings, Bringing water from a distant spring. Veins of leaves ran dry, roots shrank. And all my life I have dreaded the return […]...
32. The Vagaries of Fishes After they passed beneath us I could tell More would be coming, beneath the sand, Under the bejeweled sky, under the first Layer of earth where water exists In flutes and eddies. I lay there with you, Not wanting to leave your side even For them, the miraculous creatures of sex And sediment, the ones […]...
33. Standardization When, darkly brooding on this Modern Age, The journalist with his marketable woes Fills up once more the inevitable page Of fatuous, flatulent, Sunday-paper prose; Whenever the green aesthete starts to whoop With horror at the house not made with hands And when from vacuum cleaners and tinned soup Another pure theosophist demands Rebirth in […]...
34. A Visit Gone are the days When you could walk on water. When you could walk. The days are gone. Only one day remains, The one you’re in. The memory is no friend. It can only tell you What you no longer have: A left hand you can use, Two feet that walk. All the brain’s gadgets. […]...
35. Norse lullaby The sky is dark and the hills are white As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night, And this is the song the storm-king sings, As over the world his cloak he flings: “Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;” He rustles his wings and gruffly sings: “Sleep, little one, sleep.” On yonder mountain-side a vine Clings […]...
36. Ready to step into life This morning, coffee in hand, standing at the kitchen Window thinking of things that need to be done I contemplated the post with a lean at the front gate Which I should right one day – and wondered why; I like it that way, trying to take a first step, Embark on a journey perhaps, […]...
37. Cockspur Bush I am lived. I am died. I was two-leafed three times, and grazed, But then I was stemmed and multiplied, Sharp-thorned and caned, nested and raised, Earth-salt by sun-sugar. I was innerly sung By thrushes who need fear no eyed skin thing. Finched, ant-run, flowered, I am given the years In now fewer berries, now […]...
38. Tiare Tahiti Mamua, when our laughter ends, And hearts and bodies, brown as white, Are dust about the doors of friends, Or scent ablowing down the night, Then, oh! then, the wise agree, Comes our immortality. Mamua, there waits a land Hard for us to understand. Out of time, beyond the sun, All are one in Paradise, […]...
39. I am the Reaper I am the Reaper. All things with heedful hook Silent I gather. Pale roses touched with the spring, Tall corn in summer, Fruits rich with autumn, and frail winter blossoms- Reaping, still reaping- All things with heedful hook Timely I gather. I am the Sower. All the unbodied life Runs through my seed-sheet. Atom with […]...
40. The Negro Mother Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face dark as the night Yet shining like the sun with love’s true light. I am the dark […]...