In this upbeat short poem by Robert Frost, a peasant is rendered as he works in his fields, the very moment he realizes how stopping his work to talk to a friend is more essential than keep on working doggedly to complete his hoeing for the day. This is a small, crucial lesson that we shall learn and apply to our busy lives, even more so in today's society that often demands that we tread the wheel, like hamsters, in order to make a small living.
|Rober Frost, 1941, picture by Fred Palumbo, World Telegram staff photographer, Source: Library of Congress.|
A Time to talk
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
From "Mountain Interval", 1920.
Following is a version in Italian, by LiteraryJoint
Del tempo per parlare
Quando un amico mi chiama dalla strada
E rallenta il suo cavallo al passo,
Non me ne resto fermo a guardarmi attorno
Verso tutte le colline che ancora non ho arato,
E urlare da dove sono, Che c'è?
No, non se c'e' del tempo per parlare.
Getto la mia zappa nella terra smossa,
La parte della lama verso l'alto e lunga cinque piedi,
E mi trascino: vado fino al muro di pietra
Per una visita in amicizia.
Dalle raccolta "Mountain Interval", 1920.
Versione in italiano a cura di LiteraryJoint.