Poeme Du Champ. (Translation) . Poem by Michael Walker
Poeme Du Champ. (Translation) .
Quand le chef siffla
Mon frere et moi
Nous chargeames sur nos epaules nos houes,
En quittant le champ.
Nous retournames a l'autobus
En parlant
En anglais mauvais, en espagnol mauvais.
La nourriture du restaurant,
Les billets a une danse
Nous ne les acheterions avec notre paie.
De la vitrine cassee de l'autobus,
Je vis les feuilles des plantes du coton
Comme de petites mains faisant au revoir.
- 'Field Poem'. Gary Soto b.1952. From 'The Penguin Anthology of Twentieth Century American Poetry', edited by Rita Dove, p.506.
Field Poem.
When the foreman whistled
My brother and I
Shouldered our hoes,
Leaving the field.
we returned to the bus
Speaking
In broken English, in broken Spanish
The restaurant food,
The tickets to a dance
We wouldn't buy with our pay.
From the smashed bus window,
I saw the leaves of cotton plants
Like small hands waving good-bye.
I like this quite simple poem because it reminds me of my days working in the fields for quite low pay, not being able to afford luxuries, just like the poet. The brothers have an imperfect command of English and Spanish. They could not buy a meal in a restaurant, or tickets to a dance on their pay.
A poem which gives the point of view of low-paid workers in a cotton field. A true picture of modern working life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:30:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The restaurant food, The tickets to a dance We wouldn't buy with our pay. From the smashed bus window, I saw the leaves of cotton plants Like small hands waving good-bye.........s touching and impressive. A true picture of modern working life with low wages has been astutely delineated. Beautiful poem.
Again you have noticed a true, genuine modern poem, which others may have missed. Gary Soto is a huge talent in modern poetry. Thanks.