Mr. Heaney made his reputation with his debut volume, "Death of a Naturalist," published in 1966. In "Digging," a poem from the collection, he explored the earthy roots of his art:
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.
Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down
Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.
The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.
By God, the old man could handle a spade.
Just like his old man.
My grandfather cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, going down and down
For the good turf. Digging.
The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.
--By Seamus Heaney (April 13, 1939 - August 30, 2013)When human beings found out about deathThey sent the dog to Chukwu with a message:They wanted to be let back to the house of life.They didn't want to end up lost foreverLike burnt wood disappearing into smokeAnd ashes that get blown away to nothing.Instead, they saw their souls in a flock at twilightCawing and headed back for the same old roosts(The dog was meant to tell all this to Chukwu).But death and human beings took second placeWhen he trotted off the path and started barkingAt another dog in broad daylight just barkingBack at him from the far bank of a river.And that was how the toad reached Chukwu first,The toad who'd overheard in the beginningWhat the dog was meant to tell. 'Human beings' he said,(And here the toad was trusted absolutely),'Human beings want death to last forever.'Then Chukwu saw the people's souls in birdsComing towards him like black spots off the sunsetTo where there were no roosts or nests or treesAnd his mind reddened and darkened all at onceAnd nothing that the dog would tell him laterCould change that vision. Great chiefs and great lovesObliterating light, the toad in mud,The dog crying out all night behind the corpse house.
Reply via web post Reply to sender Reply to group Start a New Topic Messages in this topic (1) Recent Activity:
.
You received this message because you are subscribed to the "USA-Africa Dialogue Series" moderated by Toyin Falola, University of Texas at Austin.
For current archives, visit http://groups.google.com/group/USAAfricaDialogue
For previous archives, visit http://www.utexas.edu/conferences/africa/ads/index.html
To post to this group, send an email to USAAfricaDialogue@googlegroups.com
To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to USAAfricaDialogue-
unsubscribe@googlegroups.com
---
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "USA Africa Dialogue Series" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to usaafricadialogue+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
-- kenneth w. harrow faculty excellence advocate distinguished professor of english michigan state university department of english 619 red cedar road room C-614 wells hall east lansing, mi 48824 ph. 517 803 8839 harrow@msu.edu
No comments:
Post a Comment