A Wanderer Poem by Siegfried Sassoon
A Wanderer
When Watkin shifts the burden of his cares
And all that irked him in his bound employ,
Once more become a vagrom-hearted boy,
He moves to roundelays and jocund airs;
Loitering with dusty harvestmen, he shares
Old ale and sunshine; or, with maids half-coy,
Pays court to shadows; fools himself with joy,
Shaking a leg at junketings and fairs.
Sometimes, returning down his breezy miles,
A snatch of wayward April he will bring,
Piping the daffodilly that beguiles
Foolhardy lovers in the surge of spring.
And then once more by lanes and field-path stiles
Up the green world he wanders like a king.
Portrayal of an innocent lad living a natural, unassuming life and making the most of it. Wonderful classical poem. Lovable and refreshing.
To me it reads like he is a farm worker who when paid douses his sorrows with other dusty farmers and for fun gets a maiden to amuse him. In this here life working the land he feels like a king. I would too.
then once more by lanes and field-path stiles Up the green world he wanders like a king..///Watkin; like a king, vagabond king, wandering hither to thither, around the world, thru nature, this to that; wanderer his mind is full of independent like a king of the entire world; beautiful poem penned, I enjoyed.
April brings both sunshine and rain and all sorts of foolishness. If after that terrible war was perhaps justified?
A marvelous poem well crafted and brilliantly executed.
Tractless and tasteful wonder. What surge brought through. -QtR
Despite being like many being brainwashed into WW I he was a brilliant craftsman with an incredible fluent vocabulary.
Foolhardy lovers in the surge of spring. And then once more by lanes and field-path stiles Up the green world he wanders like a king. there you are. he wanders like a king. our pose, our attitudes. fine poem. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/4/2025 10:25:43 PM # 1.0.0
Though I respect Sassoon for what he wrote on the waste and folly of war, I wonder, reading this for the first time, if his just anger and outrage made him unable to see and appreciate beauty in the world. Do we fool ourselves with joy? Are lovers foolhardy? -GK