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.
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| 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
