大麦吟

I first came upon the following poem by Sara(h) Teasdale in high school. At the time, I was privileged enough to read English books sent from abroad (which Dad used to borrow regularly from his university library for me). One slim volume was an anthology of poetry (I don't remember its title now) that included this poignant poem. It made a lasting impression on me not only because of its simple vocabulary but also because of its powerful theme of resilience. Unfortunately, I was too dumb to take note of its attribution then. Of course, I became unable to recite its lines soon. Later, when I asked my (American) classmates in college whether they heard of a poem about bending barley, everyone dismissed me as a lunatic. So, thanks to the internet, I am truly delighted to have rediscovered it after so many years.

Like barley bending In low fields by the sea, Singing in hard wind Ceaselessly; Like barley bending And rising again, So would I, unbroken, Rise from pain; So would I softly, Day long, night long, Change my sorrow Into song.

After reading her biography, I feel enormously sad that the poet, unlike barley bending, succumbed young due to her frail health.