The poem expresses the speaker's sorrow over the distances that have grown between themself and their daughter. The speaker is anxious about whether their daughter will still be familiar or if she will have grown beyond their reach after being apart for another year due to living in different cities, mountains, oceans, and continents. The speaker conveys vivid images of missing small everyday moments with their daughter, like her sitting across the kitchen table picking seeds from grapes. They worry that after more time apart, their daughter may have taken on a more serious demeanor like "a caryatid, bearing the burden of a new world."
The poem expresses the speaker's sorrow over the distances that have grown between themself and their daughter. The speaker is anxious about whether their daughter will still be familiar or if she will have grown beyond their reach after being apart for another year due to living in different cities, mountains, oceans, and continents. The speaker conveys vivid images of missing small everyday moments with their daughter, like her sitting across the kitchen table picking seeds from grapes. They worry that after more time apart, their daughter may have taken on a more serious demeanor like "a caryatid, bearing the burden of a new world."
The poem expresses the speaker's sorrow over the distances that have grown between themself and their daughter. The speaker is anxious about whether their daughter will still be familiar or if she will have grown beyond their reach after being apart for another year due to living in different cities, mountains, oceans, and continents. The speaker conveys vivid images of missing small everyday moments with their daughter, like her sitting across the kitchen table picking seeds from grapes. They worry that after more time apart, their daughter may have taken on a more serious demeanor like "a caryatid, bearing the burden of a new world."
Lesson 3 | The Sorrow of Distances This love I hold for you—daughter, friend.
By Jaime An Lim I tell myself: only a year more. A year.
And then the familiar whirlwind of your arms, Literary Focus: Free Verse the bright leap of your laughter. Will you still be there for me? FREE VERSE refers to poetry that has no regular Or will you have grown beyond my reach? rhythm or rhyme, two devices that give a poem its Standing musicality. Rhythm is the element of poetry in the doorway, referring to the regular recurrence of stressed and demure unstressed syllables creating a pattern in the lines as a lady, of a poem. Rhyme on the other hand refers to the solemn regular recurrence of similar sounds at the end of as a caryatid poetic lines (end rhyme) and also within the bearing poetic line (internal rhyme). The pattern or the burden sequence in which the rhyming words occur in a of a new world, poem is called the rhyme scheme. A poem written your wrists in free verse does not follow these two poetic weighed elements although it still may use other sound Down devices such as alliteration and consonance. By the bracelets of the years?
About the author:
Jaime An Lim is a multi-awarded poet and won Activity 1: Checking Comprehension several Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Answer the ff. questions: Fiction in English (1973, 1993), essay (1989), short story for children (1990, 1993) and poetry (1990). 1. Describe the persona. For his outstanding achievement in fiction and 2. What does the line “I rehearse the poetry, he was awarded the 2000 Gawad Cebuano words" imply about his Pambansang Alagad ni Balagtas by the Unyon ng background? What does this imply Manunulat sa Pilipinas (UMPIL). He organized the about the relationship between him Mindanao Creative Writers Group, Inc., and and his daughter? founded the Iligan National Writers Workshop. 3. What vivid images of the daughter does the persona convey? 4. What does the line “bearing the The Sorrow of Distances burden of the new world” imply about By Jaime An Lim the daughter? I rehearse the Cebuano words 5. Is the persona happy or anxious with For cities, mountains, oceans, continents— the return of the daughter? what stand between us now, the lonely distances that the heart, nightly, when the nights go out, must journey in its long weary way home. I imagine what can no longer be— you across this kitchen table, intently picking seeds from your grapes, a half-moon glowing beneath your banged hair. Suddenly my tuna sandwich turns soggy. I clear the table. I blow my nose. I turn the radio on. I let the hot water run. How I miss you. There: in its terrible simplicity.