Fenny’s Fun Pensieve

My first encounter with this poem by Wislawa Szymborska (a Nobel prize winner) occured two years ago when I watched Turn Left Turn Right, a movie starred Takeshi Kaneshiro and Gigi Leung. Gigi played a translator who was doing translation of best-selling horror series yet she was far more interested in Szymborska’s Love At First Sight. I believe that the poem is the spirit of the story and it touches everyone who reads (the movie was based on a book) or watches it. I personally don’t believe such cheesy romantic stuffs as ‘love at first sight’, ‘dancing in the moonlight’, or ‘happily ever after’. Nevertheless this poem has just got the better of me since the first time I watched the movie. It’s moving yet logical, romantic yet honest… I do believe that everything happens for a reason, and everything’s made for the BIG thing. There’s no such thing as coincidence. Fate makes things intertwined one another, at first we would not recognize its astonishing work of arts but there will come a day that we shake our heads and exclaim ‘So…this is it..!’ I will say no more and leave you with English translation of Szymborska’s Love At First Sight. Enjoy! Hold in mind that,

‘Every beginning

is only a sequel, after all,

and the book of events

is always open halfway through’

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

They’re both convinced

that a sudden passion joined them.

Such certainty is more 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 a 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.

There 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

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 5th, 2006 at 8:52 pm and is filed under Nice read. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.