Sitting in a porchway cool,
Sunlight, I see, dying fast,
Twilight hastens on to rule.
Working hours have well-nigh past.
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Darkness deepens. Fades the light. Now his gestures to mine eyes Are august; and strange, - his height Seems to touch the starry skies a very fine poem. tony
Hats off to the minute observations and empathy with which the sower and his actions are narrated. It has made this poem marvelous.
Isn't it wonderful how a poet can bring alive a simple moment that one might see repeated often during his life but make it so rich and powerful that it sticks to your memory like a bur and somehow represents something larger than life- -I have to read more by Toru Dutt
a simple and austere moment, perhaps otherwise lost forever, but it struck the heart of a skilled poet and moved his pen. The simple complexity of life and labor; the intimate relationship between man and the earth which nourishes him, shelters him, imparts life to him; the hint of mortality touching immortality as the eyes of a poet lift to the stars. Exquisitely captured and beautifully rendered.
A poetic beauty of the highest order. This is indeed a fine tribute to the farmer community. I read her long poem SAVITRI in school more than 50 years ago. Thanks.
As i see him strife! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Imagery is awesome, I can see a different sky after reading this poem, such a wonderful image is created.10
I did this job when I was kid sowing rice seeds it's like an art spreading grain at uniform densities grain per square feet then we pass a toothed sled over so birds won't eat those grains...or flood the ricefield.
......truly an amazing and beautiful write, and many thanks to the sower for providing us grain for bread ★
Now his gestures to mine eyes Are august and strange-his height Seems to touch the starry skies. Simply wonderful diction. Thanks for sharing.
Why did the poet call him august ang strange