Our farmers round, well pleased with constant gain, Like other farmers, flourish and complain.
quote by George Crabbe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
One Who Rejects Christ
There's farmers and there's farmers,
There's many a field and field,
But none of the farmers round about
Can haul such harvest-wagons out
As I from an acre's yield.
There's plenty and plenty of farmers
That leave the ground by the fence,
Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses
Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses
With nice little wild-rose scents.
I'm not like other farmers,
I make my farming pay;
I never go in for sentiment,
And seeing that roses yield no rent
I cut the stuff away.
A very good thing for farmers
If they would learn my way;
For crops are all that a good field grows,
And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose
In the good strong smell of hay.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Farmers Daughter
Written by brian wilson.
I could come from miles away
Aint got (aint got, aint got)
No place to stay (place to stay, place to stay)
Glad to (glad to, glad to)
Help you plow your fields (help you plow, help you plow)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Might be (might be, might be)
Just a couple of days (couple of days, couple of days)
Clean up (clean up, clean up)
Rest and on my way (on my way, on my way)
Thank you (thank you, thank you)
And Im must obliged (much obliged, much obliged)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
So long (so long, so long)
Better leave your land (leave your land, leave your land)
Many thanks (many thanks, many thanks)
It was mighty grand (mighty grand, mighty grand)
I do (hope to, hope to)
Hope to see you again (see you again see you again)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farmers Daughter
I could come from miles away
Aint got (aint got, aint got)
No place to stay (place to stay, place to stay)
Glad to (glad to, glad to)
Help you plow your fields (help you plow, help you plow)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Might be (might be, might be)
Just a couple of days (couple of days, couple of days)
Clean up (clean up, clean up)
Rest and on my way (on my way, on my way)
Thank you (thank you, thank you)
And Im must obliged (much obliged, much obliged)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
So long (so long, so long)
Better leave your land (leave your land, leave your land)
Many thanks (many thanks, many thanks)
It was mighty grand (mighty grand, mighty grand)
I do (hope to, hope to)
Hope to see you again (see you again see you again)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I respected it. I submerged myself into it. So on a lot of days off I would go and fish with the fishermen and the families that ran the boats. I would go work the fields with farmers. I would go and talk with farmers about growing particular products for me.
quote by Emeril Lagasse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This time in june
It's june
The farmer's spell
With cutlasses and hoes
We rushed off our feet;
Off to the feild we go
It's june
The farmer's delight
With so much rigor
We worked our fingers sore
And in the night
We barely had a sleep
It's june
The farmer's joy
The heavens had opened up
Their hearts upon the earth
For the farmers household
It's time to toil
So, in november;
When harvest finally comes
The farmer walked with pride
It's the pinnacle of his yeild
And he is proud to trade
So, in november;
When harvest finally comes
With basket and sacks
We headed for the feild
It's time to fill our barns;
Even our bellies,
Also; the farmers wallet
A heavy weight to lift
And for the farmers household
It's time for spoils
This time in june;
It was a different story
And my father says;
No pain, no gain!
poem by Bolami lawal
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The Family Bible & The Farmers Almanac
(lee thomas miller/bob regan)
My fathers father was the wisest man I ever knew
Sixty years of education
Seven years of school
Farming kept his body strong
At night the only books he owned
Kepted his mind sharp as a tack
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
When to plant
When to havest
How you weed just what you sow
When to look for rain and who to turn to when it dont
There was a plan for defrost
Salvation for the lost
Words to live and die by front to back
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
One came from his mother
Handed down the day she died
The co-op sent the other
Every year at christmastime
He knew the seasons to the day
Knew paul and peter by first name
He could answer any question he was asked
With the family Bible and the farmers almanac
When to plant
When to havest
How you weed just what you sow
When to look for rain and who to turn to when it dont
There was a plan for defrost
Salvation for the lost
Words to live and die by front to back
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
He knew the way to get
Through this life to the next
While others spoke of faith
He found the facts
In the family Bible and the farmers almanac
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is time for Congress to provide relief for tobacco farmers. Since the 1930's tobacco production has been regulated by a quota system, which required farmers to purchase quota in order to grow tobacco.
quote by Allen Boyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is A Bleak Season For Farmers
It is a bleak Season for farmers with climate change and livestock prices down
Some of them have sold what they can sell and moved to live and to find jobs in the town
For many of them the rains have come too late climate change affecting everywhere
Global warming is in every Country in the bigger World out there
Some arrogant Humans think they can control Nature how come they have got it so wrong
How egotistical they must be for to think they can control the one we to belong
For we too are a part of Nature as much as her creatures of sea and of land
And she will always be our master though some that do not understand
Many farmers due to climate change the land are leaving and that seems a sad thing to say
With less farmers less food in the supermarket but the wealthy they will be okay
For a farm food scarcity means higher food prices but for food they can afford for to pay
'Tis the poor will be condemned to suffer in times of food scarcity 'tis always this way
It is a bleak Season for farmers and that is a sad thing to hear
And for the have nots of the World it looks like another bleak year.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mamta
Of the cattle disease and the soot of a furnace tossed in the air!
Of the words of sorrow and the boils out of the disease,
But the farmers are still searching for the answers;
And Mamta my lover come and told me of the news.
You are the sunshine that dawns on me oh my sweet Mamta! !
And i will always search for you no matter how long it takes;
For these farmers need to learn from you as well,
And like the beauty of the rainbow as seen up high.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Where Are The Thunder and Lightning?
The farmers of Karnataka in India
are staging agitations and protests
standing waist deep in the Kabini river
against the verdict of the Supreme Court
for releasing some cusecs of water
from the marvellous Brindavan Dam,
to quench the thirst of the farmers
in the nearby Tanjore belt in Tamil Nadu.
The South West Monsoon Winds are sterile
belying the hopes of the farmers
of the both the States.
The rain-god is sleeping somewhere!
What can the poor do
if lightning bolt strike
the women working in paddy fields
and the boys selling snacks on the beach,
and those taking shelter under the tall trees
when thunder and lightning forewarn the rains?
The gods are snoring in the granite chambers
with the mafia of Sand, Gold, Sandalwood and Coal.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Feeding A Hungry Asia
China India hungry markets
2.5 billion people droughts floods
increasing phenomena purchases
on global markets now
are undermining food
global world prices now
world’s poorest farmers
are key to deficit farmers' food
production improvement
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Johnsons Aeroplane
Four long lines one darker than the rest
Each one has a purpose making borders on the land
Farmers pride you know he works real hard
]from a small aeroplane you can see the fields
Heart shaped hedges
Japanese gardens
A place to work and grow
A place to work and grow
Four long years one leaner than the rest
The animals are fed and the pastures dry
Farmers pride if the weather doesnt lie
]from a small aeroplane you can see the sea
Lots of blue
Very deep blue
A place to work and grow
A place to work and grow
Johnson sees the fields from all the sides
Steel machines and black tar roads
Countryside where the spirit never dies
In his face all the history shows
Farmers pride as the rains came down
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anyones Daughter
I stood under your bedroom window
Throwing up a brick
No one came I threw one more
That really did the trick
Your daddy came and banged my head
He said what kind of man
Is this thats hanging round my girl
And threw me in the car
Youre a farmers daughter
Youre a farmers daughter
Why do I always get
The kinda girl I didnt oughta get
I wont get no more eggs and water
Now Ive laid the farmers daughter
Imagine I was a full-grown man
And I could talk just right
Could I come and see you here
And do this every night
Wham! the door comes crashing down
Your daddys face all pale
Says come with me you hairy bum
Ill put you in my jail
Youre a judges daughter
Youre a judges daughter
Why do I always get
The kinda girl I didnt oughta v et
Now Im getting jail and torture
cause I made the judges daughter
It seems theyre screaming law and order
When I go with anyones daughter
Woman I should like some peace
And daddy hold your tongue
I think youre gonna die of fright
When I tell you what Ive done
I can hear your tales and lies
You say Im dumb and scraggy
But man this dumb and scraggy is
Your daughters babys daddy
Shes a lucky daughter
Such a lucky daughter
Why did I always get
The kinda girl I didnt wanna get
Now Ive got what I always fought for
cause Ive married a rich mans daughter
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Parents (a poem to sing)
Owning lands
moist soil
farmers
vow to sow.
Spreading seeds
all over
for healthy plants
to grow.
Watering the saplings
fertilising
good
for the health of plants.
Pruning them
and then
amidst the Godly chants.
Buds blossom
into flowers
fragrance
spreading
to and fro.
Farmers happy
rejoice flowers
blessed by
HIS graceful show.
---x----
All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Unsung Heroes
The land laid waste and desolate.
Opposing armies came and went,
that neither thought to contemplate
the end result is evident.
There’ll be no harvest here to reap
There’s no one left to till the land.
Beneath the soil the farmers sleep.
The warriors failed to understand
In war there is no victory.
The winners and the losers fail
to learn from all past history.
That warriors die to no avail
The real heroes are men of peace.
The farmers and the labourers
the men who toil without surcease
to feed themselves and their neighbours.
14-Aug-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Farewell
We left the house! No! Lost it!!
To repay our growing debts
Three years of drought and
three years of flood
In the vageries of weather
we poor farmers withered
Sweat dried; returns eluded
Crop loans intact remained
With one last look
At the doors locked
We bid farewell to the
sweet home we held
So dear for many a decade
And reached the open world
To join our own crowded creed
Of former farmers in dire need
To eke livelihood as casual labour
In the same fields we once owned
poem by Sathya Narayana
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By the rude bridge that arched the flood,Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,Here once the embattled farmers stood,And fired the shot heard round the world.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Farmers Poem
'I don't like Poetry'
Said the husband to the wife..
'I've no time for such things
I live a Farmers life'
But the wife said 'dear husband'
'you live a poets poem'
do you not reap the harvest
of seeds by whick you've sown?
I've seen you bow your head in thanks
when God answered prayers for rain
i've seen your eyes shine with pride
with every baby calf you name'
' I guess poetrys okay' he said
as he kissed that farmers wife
and silently he thanked the Lord
she saw poetry in their life....
connetta Jean
poem by Connetta Jean
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In dry Namaqualand
In dry Namaqualand, in the stretched out paradise,
there are pretty flowers showing their faces
that rise after the first rain in that semi-desert,
appearing for days long in colourful splendour
when the sun shines over the hillocks.
Early in the morning tourists come when the sun is out
when wild flowers year after year sprout again,
to leave in their busses in the late afternoon
in dry Namaqualand,
in this way farmers are visited without any sign of respect
are trampled upon by every jolly John with a vehicle license
and later the visitors become a pain
while the local farmers wish for the flowers to languish away
rather than to have to point them out
in dry Namaqualand.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Agricultural, Implements and Machinery
Poor laborers, they did sad bewail,
When the machine displaced the flail ;
Theres little work, now, with the hoes,
Since cultivators weed the rows.
Labor it became more fickle
When the scythe took place of sickle ;
Labor still it did sink lower
By introduction of mower ;
And the work was done much cheaper
When they added on the reaper.
Another machine to it they join,
Mower, reaper, binder, they combine.
Machines now load and stow away
Both the barley and the hay,
And the farmers do get richer
With the loader and the pitcher.
Theres little work now for the hoes,
Since cultivators weed the rows ;
They sow and rake by the machine-
Hand labor's 'mong the things have been.
Armed with scythes, the old war chariot
Cut down men in the fierce war riot ;
Round farmer's chariot falls the slain,
But 'tis the sheaves of golden grain.
This harvest, now, of eighty-four,
Will great wealth on farmers pour,
For there is abundant yield
Of fruitful crops in every field.
poem by James McIntyre
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