As soon as you stop and rest you see more hills ahead,
Great chains of hills to some improbable horizon.
Will it always be like this? you ask yourself.

Don’t let the hills tower over you,
Don’t let their shadows creep before mid-afternoon
And when they come, savour the blue.

Enjoy the flatness of the land you’re on, lend it your weight
And don’t look up too high;
Ideally don’t lift your head at all, look straight.

Remember, you are not being cowardly or slack,
You have worked and now deserve to rest.
Just think: no hills, no flat,
Or, if you prefer, regard them as clouds, those hills,
Great bubbling folds of gentle gas. Leave it at that.