The sun was in the summer grass,
the Coolibahs* were twisted steel;
the stockman paused beneath their shade
and sat upon his heel,
and with the reins looped through his arm
he rolled tobacco in his palm.
His horse stood still, His cattle-dog
tongued in the shadow of the tree,
and for a moment on the plain
Time waited for the three,
and then the stockman licked his fag
and Time took up his solar swag.
I saw the stockman mount and ride,
across the mirage on the plain;
and still that timeless moment brought
fresh ripples to my brain;
it seemed in that distorting air
I saw his grandson sitting there.
Hey my name is kirby and i was suprised that i found this poem i have to do it for school actally its and assiment and we had a book full of poems and i choose this one and two others
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i found this poem,25 years ago, while browsing in the school library. i was a young student, from an agricultural background, and found most of the poetry on the syllabus did not appeal to me or touch me and then i read this. it is a statement of fact that, quite often, we lead almost the same lives as the generations that went before us. wonderful poetry