My father plowed.
So we were fed.
But meager soil
Earns meager bread.
He plowed with zest,
He plowed with wonder,
But soon we saw
His youth plowed under.
With hope drought-stricken,
With heart unbowing,
He bent his back
And kept on plowing.
With stubborn love
And a gaunt with pride
My father plowed
Till the day he died.
–From Halfway Up the Sky (written in 1949)