Digging | The Poetry Foundation
By God, the old man could handle a spade. Just like his old man. Than any other man on Toner’s bog. Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up. For the good turf. Digging. Through living roots awaken in my head. But I’ve no spade to follow …
Seamus Heaney - Digging The cold smell of potato mold, the squelch and slap Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge Through living roots awaken in my head. But I've no spade to follow men like them. Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests. I'll dig with it. - from Death of a Naturalist (1966)
"Digging" opens Seamus Heaney's first collection and declares his intention as a poet. The poem begins with the speaker, who looks upon himself, his pen posed upon his paper, as he listens to the noise of his father digging outside the window. The speaker looks down, both
discovery of Sacrificial victims preserved in bogs for 2,000 years. Heaney intuitively knew that he had found his “objective correlative’—what he has called his “emblems of adversity”—with which to explore the Troubles. Like Yeats, Heaney has, from the …
Digging by Seamus Heaney 挖掘 希尼（愛爾蘭桂冠詩人） Between my finger and my thumb 我用大姆指和手指執着 The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. 一支精美筆桿; 妥貼好比一支短槍 Under my window a clean rasping sound 一陣銳利聲在我窗外亮響
Digging by Seamus Heaney Between my finger and my thumb The squat pin rest; snug as a gun. Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground. My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills Where he was digging.
Digging BY SEAMUS HEANEY Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Seamus Heaney (1939-) Digging Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; as snug as a gun. Under my window a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
“Digging” Seamus Heaney. Directions. 1. Read the poem aloud (or Google an audio of Heaney reciting his own poem) 2. If necessary, paraphrase it in your own words --- line-by-line or stanza-by-stanza depending on the complexity of the poem. 3. If helpful, sketch the visual image that the poet constructs in this poem . 4. Then, use the
Seamus Heaney (1939-) Digging | PDF | Poetry - Scribd
Seamus Heaney - Free download as Word Doc (.doc / .docx), PDF File (.pdf), Text File (.txt) or read online for free. The poet looks out his window and sees his father digging in the flower bed. This prompts memories of his father and grandfather skillfully digging potatoes and cutting turf.
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