Claire V. Bogdanos

Acceptance,Knowledge,Love,New Chapter,Process,Wisdom,

DATELINE: Hoboken, NJ USA “NIGHTINGALES” ( 2013 ) 2013/07/07


In 1945, I stumbled upon a poem, “Transcience” by a poet, Sarojini Naidu.  I was unaware that she was a woman or that she was so very special.  However, my hungry mind gravitated to her incredible thoughts and words.  In my effort to commit them to memory, I devised a plan by using the first 4 words of each of 3 stanzas and it worked.  “Nay, do not grieve, Nay do not pine, Nay, do not weep,”  now here we are almost 70 years later and with this single device I am able to recall that piece without hesitation.  I find that time has not diminished its value or the consolation it carried in its rhythmic style to alleviate the almost unbearable tragedy of that era and its world impact !  This reminds me of another man of note and pathos, Siegfried Sassoon of World War I, still one more voice in the “wilderness “along with a cadre of others.  Oddly enough both of these poets shared similarities, born late 1800’s , died after WWII concluded,educated in England and rooted in Indian culture with a passion for peace.  Both deserve your attention and respect !  Please allow me to close with the last 4 lines of my personal favorite:

“Nay, do not weep; new hopes,new dreams,new faces,

The unspent joy of all the unborn years,

Will prove your heart a traitor to its sorrow,

And make your eyes unfaithful to their tears.”

by Sarojini Naidu

And so again, we find another facet of magic words in the hands of “word warriors” not to be ignored.  I find myself compelled to think of one greater, the Preacher,Solomon, have you read him lately?  That’s Ecclesiastes !

Sincerely,

Claire B.

 

TOO SOON ( 2013 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 6:35 pm
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There’s rings and blocks and crayon wax

And books and toys and balls and jacks

These all are part of children’s wares

Like cribs and quilts and rocking chairs.

How sweet it is to watch the young

Begin their lives with hope unsung

Their childish glee and joyful songs

Fill youthful days where love belongs.

 

I miss these years as I grow old

And wish I knew those stories told

When I was just about their size

With curly hair and blue green eyes.

I’d be so glad though it’s too late

Next stop for me, lifes golden gate.