borrowed the collection of poems from Wislawa Szymborska on Friday.. was really enthralled by her words, was living in her world, until that thing happened on Sat morning.. haha.. so nvm.. me shall blog it down here on Sunday, right after that frustrating moment, to get myself re-absorbed into her world again... hmmm...

Love at First Sight
(yeps, it's that one from Turn Left Turn Right.. now u get to enjoy the longer, full version.. :))

They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.

Since they'd never met before, they're sure
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways--
perhaps they've passed by each other a million times?

I want to ask them
if they don't remember--
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in the crowd?
a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver?
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.

They'd be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.

Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.

They were signs and signals,
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?

There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another beforehand.
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.

Every beginning
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.

-----

wuaaa.. touching leh.. amazing too.. i like her ending. most of her poetry works are jus like that. leaving u craving for more, in deep thoughts, lost forevermore.

but there was also a sense of distaste as i read this poem. dun get me wrong. i'm not so self-contradictory as to love n hate the same person at the same time. the distaste went to Jimmy Liao, the author of TLTR. suddenly all my aweness to his originality ebbed away as i came to the awareness at what unjust he had done to Wislawa, using her poem for his story. it was her after all, her who put such simplicity into words, into beauty, never never him.

still, hav to give credits to the author for bringing her works up. otherwise, one as ignorant as me would have never noted down her magnificient works of art. and also him for his illustration of her works so aptly put into drawings, into life.

shall blog down some more of her poetry in future. look out for the one entitled True Love. how true, how real true love is indeed?.. thou shalt find out, another time, another blog.. :)