Follower
de Seamus Heaney(2009)
1 min lectură
Mediu
My father worked with a horse plough,
His shoulders globed like a full sail strung
Between the shafts and the furrow.
The horses strained at his clicking tongue.
An expert. He would set the wing
And fit the bright-pointed sock.
The sod rolled over without breaking.
At the headrig, with a single pluck
Of reins, the sweating team turned round
And back into the land. His eye
Narrowed and angled at the ground,
Mapping the furrow exactly.
I stumbled in his hobnailed wake,
Fell sometimes on the polished sod;
Sometimes he rode me on his back
Dipping and rising to his plod.
I wanted to grow up and plough,
To close one eye, stiffen my arm.
All I ever did was follow
In his broad shadow around the farm.
I was a nuisance, tripping, falling,
Yapping always. But today
It is my father who keeps stumbling
Behind me, and will not go away.
Despre aceasta lucrare
- Autor
- Seamus Heaney
- Tip
- Poezie
- An
- 2009
- Cuvinte
- 153
- Citire
- 1 min
- Versuri
- 24
- Actualizat
Cum sa citezi
Seamus Heaney. “Follower.” Clasici, Poezie.ro, https://poezie.ro/clasici/seamus-heaney/poezie/followerIntrebari frecvente
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