
The theme for this World Poetry Day is Language.
Here is the second poem, ‘Losing Language’ by W.S. Merwin
Losing a Language
A breath leaves the sentences and does not come back
yet the old still remember something that they could saybut they know now that such things are no longer believed
and the young have fewer wordsmany of the things the words were about
no longer existthe noun for standing in mist by a haunted tree
the verb for Ithe children will not repeat
the phrases their parents speaksomebody has persuaded them
that it is better to say everything differentlyso that they can be admired somewhere
farther and farther awaywhere nothing that is here is known
we have little to say to each otherwe are wrong and dark
in the eyes of the new ownersthe radio is incomprehensible
the day is glasswhen there is a voice at the door it is foreign
everywhere instead of a name there is a lienobody has seen it happening
nobody remembersthis is what the words were made
to prophesyhere are the extinct feathers
here is the rain we saw– by WS Merwin
Source and Read about WS Merwin at Poets.org
[…] poems on language, the previous three are: Ama Ata Aidoo’s Homesickness, WS Merwin’s Losing a Language and Silver’s […]
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Indeed, Kinna,w e are losing our language. It is sad to see our kids speaking other languages, notably English, but their mother tongues. And in so doing they mutilate the very language that they are mimicking. A wonderful poem 🙂
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Indeed! An old man once said if you want to extinct a race, you take away their language from them. You are right as you can see it on radio, tv, online social media how people struggle to put the right words and tenses and sentences together. On a lighter note you can see the hunger with which others try to showcase their constant touch with their mother tongue online.
I once tried to correct a seasoned journalist’s error of the use of his language but wasn’t ready for it.
So sad. Could you spark a talk on twitter on any topic to see how people can respond in their local languages alone? I am dying to be involved. To me it’s not a shame to wrongly use the English language but it is when it’s my local language.
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This poem is great! Haunting and thought provoking. Thanks for posting it.
Cheers,
Andrew
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