some things are hard to forget

¿Qué es la vida? un frenesí,
¿qué es la vida?, una ilusión,
una sombra, una ficción,
y el mayor bien es pequeño;
qué toda la vida es sueño
y los sueños sueños son…”

Pedro Calderón de la Barca

This was a poem that I got to memorize for something; I don’t remember exactly what it was, but I remember the poem.  I am getting confused between a skit that I performed in French (ce que vous voulez, madame) and this poem in Spanish (first year vs fifth).  We went to the state capital for one competition, which was a big deal, but this one maybe was just in my city.  Blurrblurr.  But I remember the whole poem; this is just the part I could copy off the internet quickly enough.  You can see the whole play here, if you want.  Apparently many people remember it.

So why today do I remember it?  Because the rest of the poem that I recited had to do with a wise man who feels very sorry for himself because he has to pick up leaves that people have dropped, until he sees another man following him, picking up the leaves that he himself has left behind.

On my walk home tonight from work, I saw a man with a large old station wagon, circa our banana boat that we used to have, driving slowly along the street.  I pulled myself into a defensive mode until I noticed that the car was piled with recycle bottles, tossed-out toys, and bags of bags of bags.  Tomorrow is recycle day in our neighborhood, and many people place their goodies out during the day.  We ourselves have just recently put our old baby carriage out and it got taken, probably by this gentleman.  I had in face a little while earlier thought of the difference of people putting their garbage in black bags versus those who pile their refuse in boxes for everyone to view.  I watched him slow down and take a quick inventory of each property and then drive to the next house.  He stopped while I was parallel, put on thick work gloves, and proceeded to pull in some treasure.  I didn’t watch anymore.  I had seen enough to know how much I have.


3 responses

  1. Pingback: why would we take back our own troubles? | Learning from the Learned

  2. Pingback: letting go with joy – touchingtoes

  3. Pingback: an unexpected question – touchingtoes

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