solitary reaper - English Class


solitary reaper - English Class
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Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.
No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings?-Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;-I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
Guardala, da sola nel campo,
Solitaria ragazza della Scozia laggiù!
Mietendo e cantando da sola;
Fermati qui , o passa gentilmente!
Da sola taglia e lega il frumento,
E canta un canto malinconico.
O ascolta! Perché la valle profonda
Strabocca di suono.
L’usignolo mai cantò
Note più benvenute a bande stanche
Di viaggiatori in qualche oasi ombrosa,
Tra le sabbie arabe:
Una voce così penetrante non fu mai sentita,
In primavera dal cuculo,
Rompendo il silenzio dei mari
Tra le lontane Ebridi.
Nessuno mi dirà cosa canta?
Forse i versi lamentosi fluiscono
Per cose vecchie, infelici, lontane,
E battaglie tanto tempo fa:
O è qualche campo più umile,
Problema familiare di oggi?
Qualche dolore, perdita o pena,
Che è stato e può essere di nuovo?
Qualunque tema, la ragazza cantava
Come se la sua canzone potesse non aver fine;
L’ho vista contare al lavoro
E piegarsi sulla falce:
Ascoltai, senza muovermi e fermo:
E, mentre salivo sulla collina,
La musica portavo nel mio cuore,
A lungo dopo che non fu più sentita.
The subject of the poem is a lonely Scottish girl that is reaping the grain in a
field. While she is doing it, she sings a sad song.
Wordsworth never uses a very complex language, but, at the same time he writes
in a poetical language, with not very common words.
Imagination is always very important, because with it we can see everything we
“Poetry as memory” means that the poet sees everything with the eye of memory:
the feelings described are not immediate, but “emotions recollected in tranquilly”,
past thoughts re-organized later.
The poet’s task is to reach the real essence of things and communicate it to
everyone in a simple language. He’s a moral teacher that has to purify men’s
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