Seamus Heaney - The Wife's Tale lyrics

When I had spread it all on linen cloth Under the hedge, I called them over. The hum and gulp of the thresher ran down And the big belt slewed to a standstill, straw Hanging undelivered in the jaws. There was such quiet that I heard their boots Crunching the stubble twenty yards away. He lay down and said, ‘Give these fellows theirs, I'm in no hurry,' plucking gra** in handfuls And tossing it in the air. ‘That looks well.' (He nodded at my white cloth on the gra**.) ‘I declare a woman could lay out a field Though boys like us have little call for cloths.' He winked, then watched me as I poured a cup And bu*tered the thick slices that he likes. ‘It's threshing better than I thought, and mid It's good clean seed. Away over there and look.' Always this inspection has to be made Even when I don't know what to look for. But I ran my hand in the half-filled bags Hooked to the slots. It was hard as shot, Innumerable and cool. The bags gaped Where the chutes ran back to the stilled drum And forks were stuck at angles in the ground As javelins might mark lost battlefields. I moved between them back across the stubble. They lay in the ring of their own crusts and dregs, Smoking and saying nothing. ‘There's good yield, Isn't there?' –as proud as if he were the land itself– ‘Enough for crushing and sowing both.' And that was it. I'd come and he had shown me, So I belonged no further to the work. I gathered cups and folded up the cloth And went. But they still kept their ease, Spread out, unbu*toned, grateful, under the trees.