The curfew tolls the knell of parting day.
The lowing herd winds solely o’er the lea.
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way
and leaves the world to darkness and to me
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day.
A hush descends upon the countryside,
now is the hour when owls come out to prey.
Like ghosts on silent feathered wings they glide
The lowing herds winds slowly oe’r the lea.
Quite soon they will be relieved of their distress.
The bursting udders emptied easily.
Their heightened pace betrays their eagerness.
The ploughman homewards plods his weary way.
He’s more than ready for his evening meal,
he and his horse have worked along hard day
and both were glad to hear the tocsin bell.
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
I wait and watch for the stars to appear
and marvel at their punctuality.
I wonder if they too some signal hear
Poeticpiers aka ivor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ivor this is a most imaginative piece and a wonderful tribute to Gray's memorable Elegy. You have captured the tonality of the original and expanded each line with skill and gentle humour. A refreshing idea. Beautifully presented. love, Allie xxxx