Gerard Manley Hopkins

在这里你会发现的PoemHarry Ploughmanof poet Gerard Manley Hopkins

Harry Ploughman

Hard as hurdle arms, with a broth of goldish flue Breathed round; the rack of ribs; the scooped flank; lank Rope-over thigh; knee-nave; and barrelled shank? Head and foot, shoulder and shank? By a grey eye?s heed steered well, one crew, fall to; Stand at stress. Each limb?s barrowy brawn, his thew That onewhere curded, onewhere sucked or sank? Soared or sank?, Though as a beechbole firm, finds his, as at a roll-call, rank And features, in flesh, what deed he each must do? His sinew-service where do. He leans to it, Harry bends, look. Back, elbow, and liquid waist In him, all quail to the wallowing o? the plough: ?s cheek crimsons; curls Wag or crossbridle, in a wind lifted, windlaced? See his wind- lilylocks -laced; Churlsgrace, too, child of Amansstrength, how it hangs or hurls Them?broad in bluff hide his frowning feet lashed! raced With, along them, cragiron under and cold furls? With-a-fountain?s shining-shot furls.