A Valentine for Ernest Mann
You can't order a poem like you order a taco.Walk up to the counter, say, "I'll take two"and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.
Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, "Here's my address,
write me a poem," deserves something in reply.So I'll tell you a secret instead:
poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadowsdrifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.
Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn't understand why she was crying.
"I thought they had such beautiful eyes."
And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so. He really
liked those skunks. So, he reinvented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that had been hidingin the eyes of the skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.
Maybe if we reinvent whatever our lives give us
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.And let me know.
--Naomi Shihab Nye
見過這位詩人，她說她最感謝那個(gè)帶她認(rèn)識詩歌的小學(xué)老師，她記得那個(gè)老師的課室里總是導(dǎo)出都是詩歌。
前段時(shí)間，他們小學(xué)同學(xué)聚會(huì)，她見回兒時(shí)的朋友，她跟朋友說：“你還記得我們的老師嗎？她教我們的詩歌?！蓖瑢W(xué)說：“什么詩歌？”
“你不記得嗎？”Naomi驚呆了。
“我只記得她的課室里有很多很多的石頭?！蓖瑢W(xué)說。她的這位同學(xué)后來成為了一個(gè)地質(zhì)學(xué)家。
也許天賦和命運(yùn)冥冥中早有注定，你只需要出現(xiàn)在對的地方，靜靜等待。
