5. Seven Sons - 6. Peasant

Seven Sons

An epic poem in 7 parts with Prologue and Epilogue

6. Peasant

The sixth son named George didn’t want to leave his father
Who lived in the village, not quitting the place.
He never shared the ambitions of his brothers
And thought that their aim was just to hit the pace.

All that he dreamed of was a sunshiny idyll
That he could enjoy in that fine countryside.
Of course, George did not think that one could be idle
There where man’s ability to work is high.

He made up his mind to be diligent, handy,
For these qualities are required for a farm.
He thought he could be useful for his old daddy,
Not knowing that he, by that, would do more harm.

The point is not that George was thoughtless or lazy.
No, he could set to work if there was a need,
And his tireless activity was just crazy,
But something was always wrong in what he did.

George could not say why results were unconsoling,
Why he failed to do anything he had planned,
But misfortunes recurred, misfortunes were rolling,
Though why? It was rather hard to understand.

When he tried to cook his dish could not be eaten,
When he swept a room he would only raise dust.
The father who saw it would give him a beating,
Though, to tell the truth, it cannot be called just.

The vigorous boy, maybe not very gifted,
George couldn’t keep his energy under control.
Never giving up, with his head always lifted,
The little boy went on with carrying the ball.

A kind of relief was it to his dear father
When George went to school and spent not all his time
At home, so he could not, one way or another,
Break things, make a mess, bungle all down the line.

Dad hoped that his son would cease to be so restless
And learn to make good use of his energy.
Dad thought that a person must be somewhat hasteless
Or else that’s just rushing to death constantly.

In spite of those hopes that the old father cherished,
The school education did not change the lad:
His aptitude for spoiling all did not vanish,
Which was really unpleasant to George’s dad.

At school he became even more energetic:
By diff’rent subjects he was carried away.
A great deal of things seemed to him enigmatic,
But, with mind distrait, he didn’t go all the way.

The father decided to send him to a college,
Though George never seemed to be making great strides.
“If he wants to help me he must get more knowledge.
He can’t put a finish to nothing, besides.”

The college requirements were hard for our Georgie.
He gave up his studies: it was not his line.
He tried to make dates with some girls smart and gorgeous,
But he failed to catch the fancy all the time.

He left the college and returned to the village.
Dad did not object: he’d died some time before.
As none of his brothers would indulge in tillage,
The farm was left to George, of which he’d been sure.

He thought he had faculties of being a peasant,
Though, as we will see it later, he had none.
A series of his failures was just amazing,
And that lasted in the same way pretty long.

Whatever George did in his not too small garden,
He never obtained good results in that field:
His hopes would fall to the ground all of a sudden
When he thought, “This time I’m sure I’ll get some yield.”

But plants either rot (if he watered them often)
Or withered (if they did not drink very long).
It looked very funny but still was not laughing:
George tried, George endeavored, George always went on.

His animals died of some unknown diseases,
His trees and his bushes never yielded fruit.
“It seems,” George would think, “like Almighty God teases
And tries me. But why? Why’s He kill every shoot?”

He still hoped that, after those num’rous endeavors,
He would gain his object. (“All’s not gloom and doom.”)
One cherry took root (maybe it was God’s favor),
But it stood naked, not bursting into bloom.

Once George climbed a ladder to look at the tiling,
Fell down, broke his spine, and was taken to bed.
“No hope,” doctors said, but once they saw him smiling
At the cherry bloom outside. Soon he was dead.

13–19.12.99