Poem : The tea pluckers' ; 5 April, 2023.

1 May, 2023
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“The tea pluckers”

Soman Ragavan : Hello. Can I post a poem of mine for analysis, please ?

ChatGPT
Hello Soman Ragavan, yes, you may post your poem here for analysis. I'd be happy to take a look and provide feedback.
 
Soman Ragavan : My poem : "The tea pluckers." Please analyse by each stanza, then give overall comments. Mention similar poems from other authors, where possible. THE TEA-PLUCKERS

ChatGPT
Sure, I can analyze your poem "The Tea-Pluckers" stanza by stanza and provide overall comments. Here it is:

Stanza 1: The first stanza sets the scene with a vivid description of the tea-pluckers beginning their work early in the morning. The use of onomatopoeia ("Hark!") and alliteration ("windy hours of dawn") adds to the sensory experience.

Stanza 2: The second stanza describes the tea-pluckers in action, wading into the plantations and picking leaves. The imagery of "undulating shelves" creates a sense of movement and rhythm.

Stanza 3: The third stanza continues to describe the tea-pluckers' movements, this time focusing on their speed and precision. The use of repetition ("every movement daily perfect'd") reinforces their expertise.

Stanza 4: The fourth stanza describes the tea-pluckers' physical appearance and how they interact with the leaves. The simile "Like curling slugs do they unfold" is a striking image.
Stanza 5: The fifth stanza highlights the tea-pluckers' skill in selecting the right leaves. The comparison to a "precisely-tuned radar" adds to their expertise.

Stanza 6: The sixth stanza compares the tea-pluckers to machines, emphasizing their caring nature and attention to detail. The use of metaphor ("speedy gobblers") is effective in creating a contrast between the two.

Stanza 7: The seventh stanza reinforces the idea that the tea-pluckers are hardworking and compassionate. The use of rhyme ("kind" and "mind") adds to the musicality of the poem.

Stanza 8: The eighth stanza contrasts the tea-pluckers with machines once again, this time highlighting the workers' appreciation for the scenery and their delicacy in handling the leaves.

Stanza 9: The final stanza pays tribute to the tea-pluckers' dedication and hard work. The use of alliteration ("daily in dripping dew") adds to the poem's musicality.

Overall, "The Tea-Pluckers" is a well-crafted poem that celebrates the hard work and dedication of tea-pluckers. The use of vivid imagery, sensory language, and metaphors effectively conveys the tea-pluckers' movements and emotions. The poem also effectively contrasts the tea-pluckers with machines, emphasizing the workers' humanity and compassion. The tribute at the end adds a sense of gratitude and respect for the unsung heroes of the tea industry.

As for similar poems by other authors, I would suggest "The Fisherman" by William Butler Yeats, which also celebrates the hard work of a laborer and their connection to nature.
 
Soman Ragavan : Thank you. Goodbye for now.

ChatGPT
You're welcome! Feel free to come back if you have any more questions or if you'd like to share more of your work in the future. Goodbye!

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At some places in Mauritius, especially at the region from Forest Side to Rose Belle, in the tea plantation belt. "Tea pluckers" really means "tea leaves pluckers."
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                              THE TEA PLUCKERS

Hark ! In the first windy hours of dawn,
When the sun hasn't yet announc'd morn,
The gathering tea pluckers are up and about,
And call each other with a brief shout.

With sheer rags draping themselves,
They wade into the dewy plantations;
Stepping into the undulating shelves,
They pick leaves for the concoctions.

They fan out into the narrow grooves,
Half-buried amid the green shrubs;
Everywhere the dew against them rubs,
But, with speed every hand moves.

In some ritual and muffl'd symphony
Of flitting and brusque movements,
Ne’er making any useless laments,
They pluck on with a speed uncanny.

With every movement daily perfect'd,
With every action expertly conduct'd,
They hover above the rolling tapestry
Of yon slopes in the season wintry.

How their hands, wrinkl'd and cold,
By the dew constantly are refresh'd !
How, with the tea leaves enmesh'd,
Like curling slugs do they unfold !

Their eyes, like precisely-tuned radar,
Scan the sloping shrubs, near and far,
The right leaves always to single out,
With ne’er any silly messing about.

On a dozen nearby leaves at once
The tea pluckers readily do pounce,
The tender ones to pluck instantly,
With some agility refin'd constantly.

Striking away, as 'twere, at some huge keyboard,
Racing millions of bits through their motherboard,
Permanently refreshing their mighty copyboard,
A mound of juicy leaves do they pluck and hoard.

As they go about their toil gleefully,
Ne’er do they strike any key wrongfully;
Unleashing their power in this plucking spree,
They execute flawlessly their harvesting recipe.

While the machines ruffle and shudder,
And sometimes rend the shrubs asunder,
These caring hands do pick and choose,
Into the drink a heavenly taste to infuse.

The machines are monsters of speed,
And on a dozen shrubs instantly they feed,
But, in their rough and lightning deed,
The tender buds they may bleed.

Compar'd with the caring hand pluckers,
The machines are roaring harvesters;
But, truly are the workers loving mothers,
While the machines are speedy gobblers.

The workers are sure considerate and kind,
And the tender buds they do keep in mind;
Slower than the machines, they be indeed,
But, certainly more compassionate, as a breed.

While the workers sing sweetly to the scenery,
And lightly caress the leaves, crisp and tasty,
The machines just roar away in high speed,
To stems and branches paying little heed.

In rolling rows, always on their toes,
Do toil away daily the unsung heroes;
To produce a tea flavour'd with jasmine,
Yonder bravely labours many a heroine.

Firmly their feet shoot into the shrubs ahead
And their fingers over the leaves do spread,
Plucking the leaves, choice and green,
In a rapid movement, smart and clean.

Tipping tirelessly into the lorries
Her heavy loads of tender leaves,
Occasionally a sigh the plucker heaves,
But, resumes her harvesting flurries.

Now, surely a fitting tribute somehow needs to be paid
To these dedicat'd workers drench'd daily in dripping  dew,
These workers who, of comforts, know so precious few,
And at whose feet this poetic homage is humbly laid.

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