A Roadside Stand
Robert Frost
The little old house was out with a little new shed
In front at the edge of the road where the traffic sped,
A roadside stand that too pathetically pled,
It would not be fair to say for a dole of bread,
But for some of the money, the cash, whose flow supports
The flower of cities from sinking and withering faint.
This poem is written by Robert Frost. In this poem, the poet has written about the life of poor people forced to live on footpath, as if they are living on the fringes of the society, out of the conscious mind of the society.
There is a small house that is old. The inhabitants of this house have constructed an extension which touches the road, and looks like a stall. It would not be fair to say that they are begging for a dole, rather they want to earn some money in lieu of some items they are selling. They want their fare share in the money which runs the city.
The polished traffic passed with a mind ahead,
Or if ever aside a moment, then out of sorts
At having the landscape marred with the artless paint
Of signs that with N turned wrong and S turned wrong
Offered for sale wild berries in wooden quarts,
Or crook-necked golden squash with silver warts,
Or beauty rest in a beautiful mountain scene,
You have the money, but if you want to be mean,
Why keep your money (this crossly) and go along.
The traffic keeps on moving with a mind of its own, which means that people often ignore the existence of poor people who may be living on the footpath. Sometimes, some people do stop but they don’t stop to understand the plight of poor people. Rather they stop to enquire about the way to their destination because roadside shanties often obstruct the road signs. Such people seldom care about what is being sold by the roadside stall. They seldom stop to appreciate the beautiful landscape. The poet wishes that urban rich should loosen their purse-string and buy some items from the roadside stall.
The hurt to the scenery wouldn’t be my complaint
So much as the trusting sorrow of what is unsaid:
Here far from the city we make our roadside stand
And ask for some city money to feel in hand
To try if it will not make our being expand,
And give us the life of the moving-pictures’ promise
That the party in power is said to be keeping from us.
The poet doesn’t agree with the notion that such shanties are eyesore on the landscape. He believes that it is the abject poverty which is an eyesore, a blot on the society. These people are living far from the city because they had been promised a picture-perfect life by the politicians and bureaucrats.
It is in the news that all these pitiful kin
Are to be bought out and mercifully gathered in
To live in villages, next to the theatre and the store,
Where they won’t have to think for themselves anymore,
They were promised new houses near well developed locality with all the modern amenities, like shopping malls, theatres, hospital, school, etc. They were duped to part away with their land in the village.
While greedy good-doers, beneficent beasts of prey,
Swarm over their lives enforcing benefits
That are calculated to soothe them out of their wits,
And by teaching them how to sleep they sleep all day,
Destroy their sleeping at night the ancient way.
The greedy builders, contractors, politicians and bureaucrats reaped the benefits and left the villagers high and dry. Now, the poor are spending sleepless nights, and the greedy people are getting sound sleep.
Sometimes I feel myself I can hardly bear
The thought of so much childish longing in vain,
The sadness that lurks near the open window there,
That waits all day in almost open prayer
For the squeal of brakes, the sound of a stopping car,
Of all the thousand selfish cars that pass,
Just one to inquire what a farmer’s prices are.
The poet harbors some hope, as a child harbors some longing for good times to come back. Sadness can be seen lurking near the window of the stall. The window appears to be eternally praying for good times.
Out of the thousand cars, just one may stop to enquire about the price of items being sold at the stall.
And one did stop, but only to plow up grass
In using the yard to back and turn around;
And another to ask the way to where it was bound;
And another to ask could they sell it a gallon of gas
They couldn’t (this crossly); they had none, didn’t it see?
Another car stops in order to reverse and turn back, and ends up harming the grass. A car may stop to ask for directions, or to ask for petrol.
No, in country money, the country scale of gain,
The requisite lift of spirit has never been found,
Or so the voice of the country seems to complain,
I can’t help owning the great relief it would be
To put these people at one stroke out of their pain.
And then next day as I come back into the sane,
I wonder how I should like you to come to me
And offer to put me gently out of my pain.
The country’s economy cares a hoot about the plight of poor people. There should be some means to end the pain of poor people at one stroke. The poet wishes that everybody should come forward and find some method to relieve the pain of these people.
Think About It
Question 1: The city folk who drove through the countryside hardly paid any heed to the roadside stand or to the people who ran it. If at all they did, it was to complain. Which lines bring this out? What was their complaint about?
Answer: Following lines bring this out:
The polished traffic passed with a mind ahead,
Or if ever aside a moment, then out of sorts
At having the landscape marred with the artless paint
They complain that the roadside stall is tarnishing the beauty of the landscape.
Question 2: What was the plea of the folk who had put up the roadside stand?
Answer: The people who had put up the stall don’t want doles or freebies. All they want is some money in lieu of the items they are selling.
Question 3: The government and other social service agencies appear to help the poor rural people, but actually do them no good. Pick out the words and phrases that the poet uses to show their double standards.
Answer: greedy good-doers, beneficent beasts of prey,
Swarm over their lives enforcing benefits
Question 4: What is the ‘childish longing’ that the poet refers to? Why is it ‘vain’?
Answer: The poet harbors some hope, as a child harbors some longing for good times to come back. Sadness can be seen lurking near the window of the stall. The window appears to be eternally praying for good times. This makes it futile for the poet’s hopes.
Question 5: Which lines tell us about the insufferable pain that the poet feels at the thought of the plight of the rural poor?
Answer: The sadness that lurks near the open window there,
That waits all day in almost open prayer