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Class: 9
Rickshaw Ride Summary | John Hill
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Rickshaw Ride by John Hill
ABOUT THE POEM
Rickshaw Ride by John Hill
The poem "Rickshaw Ride" was composed by John Hill. In this poem, the poet shares his experiences regarding his rickshaw ride in Hong Kong. He feels regret to see the pathetic condition of an old rickshaw puller. He feels quite sorry about the old man's condition while sitting on his rickshaw. This poem has reflected the miserable condition of people in China who work very hard for their survival.
STANZA WISE ANALYSIS
Rickshaw Ride by John Hill
That man by the harbour
Spitting into the water
Is as old as China.
The poet starts his poem with a description of the rickshaw puller, who is an old Chinese man. He refers to him as old and compares his oldness with the country of China. According to the poet, the old rickshaw puller is standing by the harbour and spitting into the water. In the very first stanza, the poet has described his activities and looks. He compares him with the country of China, as the history of China is so old.
He is made of leather
And his folded face
Is like a sandbar
At low tide.
Will you take a ride
On his rickshaw?
In the second stanza, the poet gives a close description of the old man, saying that the rickshaw puller is made of leather (skin) like other humans, but his face is completely wrinkled. He is so weak because of his physical appearance. He looks so thin. The poet compares his wrinkled face to the sandbar at low tide. Here the poet relates to his readers about the pathetic condition of the old rickshaw puller and asks his readers to take a ride on his rickshaw during the fine time of low tide in the sea.
He will not thank you
For your dollar,
He knows that to you
A dollar does not matter.
Off you go with a clatter
Up to Victoria
On up the long hill
Pass the cathedral
To the peak Tram
In the third stanza, the poet describes the responses of the old rickshaw puller to his riders. His hard labour in pulling his riders for a long time up to the peak of the tram shows his hardships. He doesn't seem happy and won't thank his riders for their dollars. This particular dollar doesn't matter to them. To earn this single dollar, he has to do his hardest labour at this particular lace. He has to pull his riders, with his clattering feet, up to Victoria and up the long hill. He has to pull his riders continuously on the long hill and pass the cathedral to the peak of Tram.
Pull! Pull!
He leans to it
His muscles at neck and calf and shoulder
And his dark veins that snake
Take your eye
Not what passes by.
Let him not break
Something for my sake,
For my dollar.
In the fourth stanza, the poet inspects the old rickshaw puller very closely and describes his hardships for the sake of the dollar. While pulling the poet up the long hill, the poet becomes quite fearful to see his condition. The old rickshaw puller keeps on pulling the poet continuously. He leans on his body with excessive force to pull the rickshaw. The poet keeps on watching his muscles at the neck, calf, and shoulders. His dark veins seem like snakes while pulling the rickshaw with force. According to the poet, this particular hard labour of the rickshaw puller attracts riders' attention, not the other beautiful things that pass by. The poet feels so scared to find out about the pathetic condition of the old man. He keeps on wishing his best for the sake of the old man's life. He wishes for the old rickshaw puller, saying that let him not break (die) for his sake or his dollar. He wishes for his fine health.
You went to Hong Kong
They will say.
Did you take a rickshaw?
Was it fun?
Did he run, your rickshaw man
Yes, he ran.
No, it was not much fun.
In the last stanza, the poet describes the people's views on Hong Kong's trip. After the Hong Kong trip, most people ask him about his Hong Kong trip and even the popular rickshaw ride. Most people ask the poet about taking a rickshaw ride in Hong Kong, his rickshaw man, his run, and even his enjoyment of the ride. But for the poet, the experience of the rickshaw ride was so terrible. He spent his time sitting on a rickshaw, fearful. He was only focused on the pathetic condition of the old rickshaw puller. The poet replies that his rickshaw-puller ran so fast, but for him, that ride wasn't much fun.
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