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Monday, April 18, 2022

Black Earth

Too black, excessively a a large amount of indulged, living inside clover,

All little withers, all air, all charity,

All crumbling, all massing inside a choir—

Damp clods of soil, my land with every one other accompanied by liberty...


With early plowing it is black to blueness,

And unarmed labour here is glorified—

A thousand hills plowed not shut wide to speak it—

Circumference is not all circumscribed.


And yet the world is blunder with every one other accompanied by obtuseness—

No swaying it, flat on bended knee:

Its rotting flute gives sharpness to the hearing,

Its earlier to noon clarinet harrows the ear.


How sweet the fat earth's pressure on the plow,

How the leap turns the steppe to its advantage...

My greetings then, black earth: exist strong, look out—

Black eloquence of wordlessness inside labor.

#Activities #Gardening #Jobs & Working #Nature #Landscapes & Pastorals #Social Commentaries #Town & Country Life

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