Monday, September 27, 2004
Mirror by Sylvia Plath
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
I made a quick stop at Kinokuniya last Saturday. Didn't actually have much time but I just had this urge of going through books. I stopped at the literature section because I wanted to read something light and short. Being the morbid me, I chose to read Sylvia's works (she died because of suicide). I "heard" (I may have heard wrongly) that her works kinda describe her depression. Actually I didn't really get what she's trying to say in this poem but
Mirror is just so ... can I say captivating? After reading the first part I thought she was just talking in metaphor (can I use metaphor here?) but it turns out that she was talking about the plain old mirror. I read it twice and I just like it. I searched through the Internet just now and I found the poem. So here I am putting it here, so that at least we are learning something new. So that my blog at least have something useful in it (if you can call this useful). Well at least now you know who Sylvia Plath is. I personally like the first part of the poem.
:) eKa @ 2:36:00 PM •
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