Learn More

Toru Dutt

(4 March 1856 - 30 August 1877 / Calcutta / British India)

The Sower


Sitting in a porchway cool,
Sunlight, I see, dying fast,
Twilight hastens on to rule.
Working hours have well-nigh past.
Shadows run across the lands:
But a sower lingers still,
Old, in rags, he patient stands.
Looking on, I feel a thrill.
Black and high, his silhouette
Dominates the furrows deep!
Now to sow the task is set.
Soon shall come a time to reap.
Marches he along the plain
To and fro, and scatters wide
From his hands the precious grain;
Muse I, as I see him stride.
Darkness deepens. Fades the light.
Now his gestures to mine eyes
Are august; and strange, - his height
Seems to touch the starry skies

Submitted: Thursday, March 22, 2012

Do you like this poem?
2 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Sower by Toru Dutt )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  2. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  3. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  4. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  5. Sonnet II: My Heart Was Slain, Michael Drayton
  6. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  7. A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
  8. I Am the Only Being Whose Doom, Emily Jane Brontë
  9. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  10. Ozymandias, Percy Bysshe Shelley

Poem of the Day

poet Emily Jane Brontë

I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born

In secret pleasure - secret tears
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]