Archive for 2017年2月

A poem by Robert Frost: ‘Out, Out—’
And they, since they were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.

The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard

And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,

Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.

And from there those that lifted eyes could count

Five mountain ranges one behind the other

Under the sunset far into Vermont.

And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,

As it ran light, or had to bear a load.

And nothing happened: day was all but done.

Call it a day, I wish they might have said

To please the boy by giving him the half hour

That a boy counts so much when saved from work.

His sister stood beside him in her apron

To tell them ‘Supper.’ At the word, the saw,

As if to prove saws knew what supper meant,

Leaped out at the boy’s hand, or seemed to leap—

He must have given the hand. However it was,

Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!

The boy’s first outcry was a rueful laugh,

As he swung toward them holding up the hand

Half in appeal, but half as if to keep

The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all—

Since he was old enough to know, big boy

Doing a man’s work, though a child at heart—

He saw all spoiled. ‘Don’t let him cut my hand off—

The doctor, when he comes. Don’t let him, sister!’

So. But the hand was gone already.

The doctor put him in the dark of ether.

He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.

And then—the watcher at his pulse took fright.

No one believed. They listened at his heart.

Little—less—nothing!—and that ended it.

No more to build on there. And they, since they

Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.


and this poem keeps popping out in my mind…


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Dear flower,
why must you do this to me?
why must you do to this extent?

What have i wronged you?
Ask your conscience and you will find nothing to accuse me.
Ask your conscience, is this fair to me?
Why do you persecute me?
Why do you stab me?
All that i do is for your good.
I intentionally avoided all the Thursday class since one year ago so that i can accompany you to the garden of God, but of course, i won’t tell you that my free Thursday nights is not a coincidence.
When i offered to do the lessons that you missed on public holiday, it was because that was the only time that i was left with.
You didn’t want to do those lessons on public holiday and was angry.
But, did you realize what i offered you?
That’s your public holiday, and also mine,
the only day that i have for myself, i offered it to you,
and yet you threw it on the floor and spat on it.

I don’t understand why.
Who blinded your eyes?
Who shut your ears?
Who hardened your heart?
Didn’t you realize these are the work of the beast?

Listen to your conscience, your conscience will be your scourge.
You will have no peace unless you seek forgiveness from the one whom you have stabbed.
This is not a curse, but a reminder.

Nonetheless, i regretted nothing.
The time that i spent, i regret not.
Nothing is a waste.

The father led you to me and i gladly accepted the task to bring you home to our father’s palace.
Now that you have chosen the other path, there’s nothing more that i can do for you.
You have chosen to listen to the prince of darkness.
Remember, dear flower, salvation is a free gift, given to all.
But, God has given us free will.
We are free to choose whether to accept the gift or salvation or not.

I stand clear in front of God.
My conscience is clear.
I have done all that i can for you and i have never harmed you.
Now that i can no longer do anything to you,
I return to you to the one who sent you to me.
He loves you and He knows you better.
Let Him continue to call your name.
Go back to Him if you have ears.
Respond to the Love that calls your name.



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