The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
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are you learning that indeed?
RispondiEliminawhat did you lost lastly?
i love this poem
would you be able to translate it in you mother tongue?
Miss BigBee
I learnt the art of losing when I was six years old. I was in the car, my mother was driving and I voluntarily throwed a necklace, that I found in the Easter egg, out of the window. One minute later I realised that I couldn't have it back.
RispondiEliminaLastly I lost a phone call from an anonymous number.
For me translation=negotiation. To be honest not for me but according to many traslation's theoreticals. Negotiation itself is another art to learn.