名人诗歌|Hay for the Horses

He had driven half the night

From far down San Joaquin

Through Mariposa， up the

Dangerous Mountain roads，

And pulled in at eight a.m.

With his big truckload of hay

behind the barn.

With winch and ropes and hooks

We stacked the bales up clean

To splintery redwood rafters

High in the dark， flecks^{1 of alfalfa}

Whirling through shingle-cracks of light，

Itch^{2 of haydust in the}

sweaty shirt and shoes.

At lunchtime under Black oak

Out in the hot corral，

The old mare^{3 nosing lunchpails，}

Grasshoppers^{4 crackling in the weeds}

I'm sixty-eight he said，

I first bucked^{5 hay when I was seventeen.}

I thought， that day I started，

I sure would hate to do this all my life.

And dammit， that's just what

I've gone and done.