“The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.”

— Seamus Heaney , book Death of a Naturalist

"Digging", line 25, from Death of a Naturalist (1966).
Poetry Quotes, Death of a Naturalist

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Seamus Heaney 29

Irish poet, playwright, translator, lecturer 1939–2013

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“Between my finger and my thumb
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Seamus Heaney (1939–2013) Irish poet, playwright, translator, lecturer

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Context: To live and to write, it's all the same, both together, for the pen is my spade; when I look ahead I only look back, when I stare at the paper I only see the past: she crossed that bluish green carpet as if she were crossing the sea because she wanted to talk to me, for she found out that I was "B.", author and literary translator, one of whose "works" had read, and which she definitely wanted to discuss with me, she said, and we talked and talked until we talked ourselves into bed — Good God! — and continued to talk even then, uninterrupted.