I sing behind the plough

I am just a simple farmer, downright and plain,
and yet I love my modest callings,
for around my little home grow blossoms fair with color and perfume.
Mine is the clear spring, mine is the fresh breeze.
I grew up to the song of the birds, learned a little of them, too.
I sing when the impulse comes to fly light and free.
I sing behind the plough and to the sound of the mowing.
Hills and woods give back my song.
And when I am weary with toil and day is done,
my spirit is fresh,my mind at ease, I am happy and free.
I would not change places with any man on earth,
nor will I leave this spot in the North.

-Mads Hansen

19th Century Danish farmer and poet