The subway is filled with advertisements with which to amuse yourself as you avoid eye contact from your fellow New Yorkers. Occasionally you come across a precious nugget from Barnes and Noble, a little poem that fits in the smallest advertisement space, but manages to keep your attention for a good 10 stops. I came across this one the other day, and I was wondering what you think.
If there is something to desire,
there will be something to regret.
If there is something to regret,
there will be something to recall.
If there is something to recall,
there was nothing to regret.
If there was nothing to regret,
there was nothing to desire.
- Vera Pavlova
Personally I think she divided by zero somewhere in there.
MTA's Poetry in Motion site
7 comments:
Ha - I was thinking the same thing. The second and the third 'if's seem to contradict one another.
:-)
I have to agree also. It reminds me of a painting by Escher. Where it begins and where it ends are the same, but I think in this case it begins on a broken step.
Saw this when I was on the subway. Thought about it then. Witty but faulty. Logical errors of equivocation and group designation. (Can't put a handle on the last term, but "some" does not equal the "whole." So, some of "recall" items are not regretable. That does not mean that all of "recall" items are not regretable; that is, some recall items ARE regretable. In fact, much of our sorrow and shame comes from events that we both recall and regret have done.)
-Mom
saw this poem on the bus today, and i was compelled to search out more info on it, and came across your blog site. This poem struck me because it gives a detour to your emotions, away from desire, in particular a desire that is unfulfillable.(such as a longing that you have for something, or someone.) it says to me that desire is not shameful, even impossible desire is not shameful. there is always hope, there is always growth, in the memory of that desire. It must not be regretted, because you can learn from your desire, instead of being shamed.
When desire is met by the reality of your desire's impossibility to be fulfilled, it can sometimes can lead to shame.
i got to this point, but then the last two lines, like you say, seems like dividing by zero.
if you can intellectualize your (unfulfilled) desire to where you do not regret it, maybe desire isn't necessary. The paradox is that desire begins the logical problem and by the end what began it doesn't exist. it is staking emotions against logic, which is like fighting someone while trying to go uphill also.
it is all so confusing, but nothing should ever be pinned down to an absolute! Thanks for talking about this work!
That's a fabulous interpretation, and a more optimistic one than the one I had. I felt almost defeated at the end because desiring a hope or dream in the end is pointless. I suppose my reading of it was a reaction to the first and last couplet. I don't feel that if there is something to desire, there is something to regret. And if there was nothing to regret, why does that mean there is nothing to desire? The link between want and foreboding seems self-defeated to me, but in the end the poem is able to end on a positive note. I like your reading.
you must all be depressives. this is a beautiful, haunting, terribly Russian poem. it's not as tough as you've all made it out to be:
If there is something to desire,
[even if you can never attain or possess it]
there will be something to regret.
[because the longing will have been unfulfilled]
If there is something to regret,
there will be something to recall.
[because you will always have the memory of your longing for the object of your desire, which made you feel alive]
If there is something to recall,
there was nothing to regret.
[because you will have, if nothing else, the memory of your longing, which is what made you feel alive, and there can be no regret in that]
If there was nothing to regret,
there was nothing to desire.
[becase if you do not carry with you any memories of things that you longed for, but could not possess, then you never strove for anything beyond yourself. and that kind of a life isn't really a life at all.]
in other words, til better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
again, i think it's a wistful, marvelous poem.
Your interpretation doesn't leave me any more satisfied with the poem. This romanticizes unrequited love or at least desiring the impossible. It again divides by zero...longing fulfills you by never getting it. What really gets me is that no matter how I read it, I don't seem to agree with it. It opens, already determined to fail, and enjoys the idea. It's like a teenager who decorates himself with sorrow.
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