sábado, 22 de enero de 2011
Those Winter Sundays by Robert Hayden
Who said poetry had to be difficult and hard to understand? That is what we all thought before, at least that was what i used to think. This poem is very clear, it goes right straight to the point. But still, it creates a hole story we can infer from such short words, it is amazing. The poem, the story of a man remembering "those winter sundays", remembering all the things his father did for him and his family, remembering and regretting not thanking him for what he did, regretting things from the past, things he cannot change, things he will never change. "Those winter sundays", I do not think the poem refers to them as "winter" being just a cold weather, it feels as doe the days the boy spent with his family were cold. Of course the father got up early, polished his shoes and warmed the house, but still, that became a routine, nobody thanked the father for doing those things. The relationship with the boy and his father was cold, was serious, the boy spoke indifferently to him. The poem made me reflect not only in if we thank our parents of what they do for us everyday, it made me reflect on life as a routine, again. How many things we take for granted just because they happen everyday, how many times do you go to your best friend and say thank you for making me smile everyday, how many times do you go to your boyfriend/girlfriend and say thank you for loving me everyday.. Do we really want to be like the author, not when we grow up, but tomorrow, when that person is not there anymore, do you want to regret not saying "thank you", I do not want to "want" to change my past, I do not want to regret not saying "I love you" or "thank you" to that person when he/she is gone, and I will not.