Over back where they speak of life as staying
('You couldn't call it living, for it ain't'),
There was an old, old house renewed with paint,
And in it a piano loudly playing.
Out in the plowed ground in the cold a digger,
Among unearthed potatoes standing still,
Was counting winter dinners, one a hill,
With half an ear to the piano's vigor.
All that piano and new paint back there,
Was it some money suddenly come into?
Or some extravagance young love had been to?
Or old love on an impulse not to care-
Not to sink under being man and wife,
But get some color and music out of life?
This poem paint an interesting picture, the old house and the new paint. A sign of progress? And the digger, where to your place him in the poem?
All that piano and new paint back there, Was it some money suddenly come into? Or some extravagance young love had been to? Or old love on an impulse not to care- the old piano and the new paint. very fine poem. tony
Advice! ! Old house renewed with Paint. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Music while you work. Music has a way of motivating work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
.....wonderful, get some volor and music out of life ★