Digging

"Excavation" and "excavation" by Seamus Heaney are "the death of naturalism" which is the first poem of the first full volume of Heaney's poem. "Death of a naturalist" is about the transition to adulthood and the process of losing innocence. This poem shows how Hynie looked at his father and grandfather, especially their diligence. Even if Heaney did not follow their footsteps but became a farm worker, he respected the work they did, especially the skills they dig. This poem is a free poetry.

In a poem entitled "Excavation", Seamus Heaney emotionally recorded the art of cultivating potato excavations in Ireland. His father mastered art and he was excavating Rembrandt. As the reader penetrates the earth with "clean barks", the reader can hear the humming sound. (Heaney 161) heard the sound of the shovel. When he wrote, Heaney steadily put the foot of the reader on the shovel. "I love cold hardness in my hands" is not only the art of unearthing vitality, but I also know that it is emotionally satisfying. (Page 161)

There are various kinds of mining, but it is not literally. But everyone automatically thinks it is being dug in a shovel or spade; pulling up flowers, putting in a vase, or pulling out weeds so as not to eat weeds. But if you think about the metaphor, writing is the same; this is at least the way I am doing this. Weeds are severe depression and anxiety that nearly all writers deal with regardless of deadlines or lack of decent thought (or general reason). . Literal translation is not for everyone; my family comes from a number of farmers, but I have completed. It's better to dig a pen instead of digging with a stylus