summer haiku d'été – alone she reaps = seule elle moissonne
alone she reaps
the willowing wheat...
yes her sorrows' lay
seule elle moissonne
le blé ondulant ...
chant de son chagrin
© by/ par Richard Vallance 2020
painting, the harvester by Edward John Cobbett (1815-1899)
based on the lovely lyrical poem by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
suivant le beau poème lyrique de William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
The Solitary Reaper
Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.
No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings?—
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;—
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
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