Tuesday, January 19, 2021

The official student newspaper of Methodist Ladies' College

Eulogy for a Closing Window

They say language is a window,

Through which one’s culture is conferred.

As if ramrod grammar formed the frames

And the glass panes are built of words.

*

But the window my father passed down

Carries the sepia tone of age ;

The sounds someone uttered long ago

Written on a torn-out page.

*

The light can pass through no more,

The cracks soon widen and spread.

The world beyond seems a distant echo,

Its figures distorted and dead.

*

How I long to see that place again

Where generations have come and gone.

But when I return to my childhood home

I remain silent and withdrawn.

*

As I stand behind that barrier

I study each imperfection minute

And lament how I speak with foreign voices

But in my mother tongue I am mute.

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