The Potato Eaters - Grim, Weathered Souls Wrenching A Meal From Sandy Waste. The Dark Toil Lined Ridges Carried From Their Fields To Each Human Face, Dim, Pale Light As Shadowy As Lives Eked Out Upon This Stoney Rash Of Soil. Brows, A Murky Legend Of Overwork - Deflected Hope, Seasons Up In The Smoke Of A Potato Boil.