I found it on my way home today. In somebody's little front yard garden. It looked so fragile, surrounded by tons of concrete, engulfed by the noise of the city that never sleeps... I was surprised to find its scent was the same as I remember from Poland. I felt, for some reason, that it shouldn't. Smells have always been bringing back memories for me. Memories that are otherwise long dead, forgotten. I am closing my eyes and I can see so many images and voices playing in my head, as if I were to die in a moment. Shreds of my life. Such a smell can only veil the memories in subtle beauty, erase all that's sordid and harsh. But it's so evanescent. I have to hurry. My stolen bunch of fragnance is going to die soon. Not much time left. I can smell the first signs of decay. Monday, May 12, 2008
Lily of the valley
I found it on my way home today. In somebody's little front yard garden. It looked so fragile, surrounded by tons of concrete, engulfed by the noise of the city that never sleeps... I was surprised to find its scent was the same as I remember from Poland. I felt, for some reason, that it shouldn't. Smells have always been bringing back memories for me. Memories that are otherwise long dead, forgotten. I am closing my eyes and I can see so many images and voices playing in my head, as if I were to die in a moment. Shreds of my life. Such a smell can only veil the memories in subtle beauty, erase all that's sordid and harsh. But it's so evanescent. I have to hurry. My stolen bunch of fragnance is going to die soon. Not much time left. I can smell the first signs of decay. 
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I was so delighted to read about your lovely experience of finding a delicate and precious little flower amidst the chaos of our concrete jungle. You shared with us it's sweet scent and memories from home. And then.........
....you end the blog with "I can smell the first signs of decay."!!!!!
I see I have much more work to do... :o
What I love about even the grimmest of Polish cities is that space has been made for parks, trees, flowers to grow wild, imparting a welcome touch of green to these grey concrete monoliths. Various Poles commented to me when going to English cities for the first time, "Where are the trees, where are the flowerbeds?"
Well, they are here, and in the middle of a capital city of 1.5 million people (which sounds like a large village to you, I know :P), I am looking out of my window at my own big, beautiful, green lawn, flowerbeds, and tiny wood, and remembering that humans are mistaken if they think nature is far away and insignificant.
Which applies not only to the trees in the park, but to Burma and China as well...
(E's not the only one who can do twist endings, by the way. :D)
My dear friends... sorry for the decay thing. I really tried to let this one little flower encounter carry me into the world of poetry and sublime. No twists were intended... I guess my mind is just corrupted too much to let me indulge in pure emotions even for a moment.
Post a Comment