Beneath the vast sky, where the eagles do soar,
the landscape of cornfields extends evermore.
A tapestry woven of sun and of rain,
its golden expanse is both blessing and bane.

The farmer toils onward, with sweat on his brow,
through the toil of the earth, he learns to endow.
The fruits of each season, a cycle sustained,
in the pulse of creation, his spirit remains.

• Émile Zola