In the lowlands of the moors is a croft in the dale.
The red-winged blackbird roams upon the swale.
There the blooms flourish in the broad meadows.
The mackerel skies are opened by the rainbows.
Hitherto the soil of the land had been ploughed.
Therefore it is to sully then afterwards sowed.
Amidst the daily toils that are to be done.
It is the tilling of the seeds that have since gone.
There past yonder, in the depth of the hilly ground.
It is a ploughman making a belabouring sound.
Franc Rodriguez's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Chiel by Franc Rodriguez )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- My Maiden's Love Is Like A Cloud In June, Chibueze Oscar Osuji
- दिल को हरदम dil ko hardam, hasmukh amathalal
- Ode To Envy, Chibueze Oscar Osuji
- Time be quite, Filippo Stella
- Domestic goddess, Mark Heathcote
- Blank Depression, Chibueze Oscar Osuji
- The tears of human race, Great Emeritus
- Capsule Of Eternity, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- MY own fault, hasmukh amathalal
- on returning to my part time job-, Mandolyn ...