Poem : 'Two watering cans' ; 4 April, 2023.

1 May, 2023
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“Two watering cans”

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

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Hello Soman Ragavan! Yes, of course, you can post your poem for analysis. I would be happy to provide feedback and insights on your work. Please feel free to share your poem with me.
 
Soman Ragavan : My poem : "Two watering cans." Please analyse by groups of 3 stanzas (as the poem is long), then give overall comments. Mention similar poems from other authors, where possible. TWO WATERING CANS

ChatGPT
Sure, here is the analysis of your poem "Two Watering Cans" in groups of 3 stanzas:

Stanzas 1-3: The poem sets the scene of a hardworking woman
who wakes up early in the morning to collect water from a nearby farm. She has a long day ahead of her, but she does not shy away from the hard work. The poem effectively conveys the woman's determination and resilience.

Stanzas 4-6: The woman now grabs two watering cans to water her vegetable beds. The poem highlights the challenges faced by the woman as she walks on muddy paths carrying the heavy load of water. Despite the difficulty, the woman continues to persevere and nourish her plants.

Stanzas 7-9: In these stanzas, the woman continues with her hard work by cutting down branches to gather firewood. The poem shows that the woman has a great deal of strength, both physical and mental. The woman is depicted as a symbol of empowerment and inspiration for others.

Stanzas 10-12: The final stanzas describe the woman's continued hard work throughout the day. The poem showcases her as a multitasking individual who is capable of performing various tasks with ease. The woman's strength and resilience are once again emphasized, and the poem ends on a note of admiration for the woman's abilities.

Overall, the poem "Two Watering Cans" celebrates the strength and resilience of a hardworking woman. It effectively portrays the woman's daily routine, highlighting the challenges she faces but also showcasing her ability to overcome them. The poem is reminiscent of works by other poets who celebrate the strength and resilience of women, such as Maya Angelou's "Phenomenal Woman" and Emily Dickinson's "I'm Nobody! Who are You?"

Soman Ragavan : Thank you. Goodbye for now.

ChatGPT
You're welcome! Don't hesitate to reach out if you have any more questions or if you need help with anything else in the future. Goodbye!

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                                      TWO  WATERING  CANS

(a) Refers to the period 1962-1970. The mountain is Corps de Garde Mountain, and the vegetable plantations were at the place called "La Chaumière," on the west side of the mountain, before reaching La Ferme Reservoir, on crossing the mountain from Camp Levieux, Stanley, Rose Hill, (Mauritius).

(b) "Frailty, thy name is not woman"
After Shakespeare's "HAMLET" : "Frailty, thy name is woman."

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                                          TWO  WATERING  CANS

In the cold hours afore the dewy sunrise,

The slender woman hath risen to surmise

The lifting mists on yon sprawling mountain,

And turns briskly towards the village fountain.

 

A colossal day's toil for her lies ahead :

With her water pail on her slender arm,

Draping with some rags her frail head,

She heads to the tap across yon farm.

 

A heavy pail of water from there to convey :

Merely an appetiser, afore the day's tiring toil.

‘Pon the woman's head, on the return journey,

In the pail the water sloshes about in turmoil.

 

Afore nothing doth the woman recoil :

In the kitchen putting some water to boil,

Lightly heads she towards the mountain,

While, all around,still darkness for certain.

 

Hopping over the stones and over the thorns,

The woman hurries along expertly like a hare,

'Cause she hardly hath any time to spare,

And, idleness for sure utterly she scorns.

 

Crossing the plains, crossing the mountain,

--- For, nothing her steps can ever retain ---

She gallops down the slippery pebble way,

Speeding on, as slowly dawns another day.

 

Dozens of beds of crisp vegetables,

Quite fit to be sung in a book of fables,

Greet her yonder in the chilly dawn air,

While in the wind flaps away her hair.

                              * * *

Grabbing her two watering cans,

Her vegetable beds she scans;

Her feet race to the low pond :

To her toil doth she respond.

 

'Tis hard on the ankles and on the feet,

'Tis a hard challenge for a woman to meet,

'Tis hard on the shoulders and on the wrists,

But, along the muddy paths the woman twists.

 

Carrying her heavy load of water,

Enough to bend someone stouter,

She hastens to the vegetable beds,

And her cans of water she sheds.

 

Lifting up the cans in some ritual symphony,

She empties out all the water with a flourish,

Responding to the plants she doth cherish :

From both cans the water flows in harmony.

 

With a final flourish she swings back

To yon low pond for a new round :

The watering really should abound :

In her pace, there be no slack.

 

Full many a gallop will she make :

All her strength, up will she rake :

The vegetables will bend with moisture,

And will flourish on in better texture.

                                           * * *

Putting back the watering cans finally,

The woman heads bravely for the bush;

Many thorns aside firmly does she push,

To chop down the branches expertly.

 

Chopping off the green leaves,

An occasional sigh she heaves;

For her the air is no longer chilly :

It might perhaps still be for the lazy.

 

She swallows hard : nobody else be in sight :

Bravely doth she summon up all her might,

As her bundle of firewood she doth bind :

She be verily a pride to womankind.

 

She lifts and carries alone her bundle :

What a strength in this body so supple !

To many she remains a shining example,

As daily with her toil doth she grapple.

 

Balancing the heavy weight on her head,

--- Quite a marvel in a body so little fed ---

She hops along, goat-like and sure,

Breathing in this air, so crisp and pure.

 

While others, carrying but their own weight,

Often pause and pant, sigh and shake, and wait,

This frail woman dances up the slippery way,

While, 'pon her head, her load doth sway.

                                         * * *

Crossing the mountain, she gallops down the plain,

Her bare feet gripping the stones, under the rain;

Such an extraordinary feat 'tis quite hard to find,

'Cause she doth belong to a disappearing kind.

 

The trip alone would have floor'd many,

But, not this frail-looking, slender nanny;

She did carry home the heavy pail of water,

And, over the plains lightly did she hover.

 

Down the slippery way did she speed :

The vegetable beds fully did she feed :

The heavy firewood did she collect :

On tiredness had she no time to reflect.

 

Up the slippery way bravely did she run,

With a speed many stouter men would shun;

Down the stretching plains she did float :

Both her soles do have corns as a coat.

 

Near the kitchen dumping the firewood,

She be still in a strong working mood;

For the cow she dishes out the fodder :

Grabbing a pail, she reaches for the udder.

 

The firewood soon into pieces would she chop,

With the kids to school then would she gallop;

The clothes and dishes rapidly would she wash,

And, to the baker's quickly then would she dash.

 

Soon after finishing the family's ironing,

Would she hop over to do the shopping;

To the kitchen would she dash for the cooking :

All of this to be done in one single morning.

 

While from behind the clouds peeps the morning sun,

For the woman the strenuous toil barely hath begun :

Sorry, old man Billy : Frailty, thy name is not woman !

The strength of this woman is quite superhuman !

 

                                                       *****