The Manhon, farm maid, lifted by the light of her hold,
Once the wheat has been harvested, she leaves with the wrapped party favors,
Barefoot, to glean, when behind the hill points the sun,
Here it is in the stubble, going from ear to ear, here right, down there.
She waits for the herdsman, harnessing her oxen to the cart, sting in the ground planted,
When the heat arrives and burns the countryside, she leaves exhausted,
With beaters she shells the gleans on the farm and sells the wheat,
The red-crested chickens surround him, pecking at a quickly swallowed grain.
Adapted from the Gascon sonnet by André Sémeilhon