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  • Sharon Olds 시 "Race"
    2026. 1. 20. 05:28

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    Edward Hirsch, 100 Poems to Break Your Heart 에서 (3)

     

    Sharon Olds wrote "The Race" in the days or weeks after her father died in the early autumn of 1983. He wa seventy years old....

     

    The Race

     

    When I got to the airport I rushed up to the desk,

    bought a ticket, ten minutes later

    they told me the flight was cancelled, the doctors

    had said my father would not live through the night

    and the flight was cancelled. A young man

    with a dark brown moustache told me

    another airline had a non-stop

    leaving in seven mimutes. See that

    elevator over there, well go

    down to the first floor, make a right, you'll

    see a yellow bus, get off at the

    Pan Am terminal, I

    ran, I who have no sense of direction

    raced exactly where he 'd told me, a fish

    slipping upstream deftly against

    the flow of the river. I jumped off that bus with those

    bags I had thrown everything into

    in five minutes and ran, the bags

    wagged me from side to side as if

    to prove I was under the claim of the material,

    I ran up to a man with a white flower in his breast,

    I who always go to the end of the line, I said

    Help me. He looked at my ticket, he said

    Make a left and then a right, go up to the moving stairs and then

    run. I lumberd up the moving stairs,

    at the top I saw the corrider,

    and then I took a deep breath, I said

    Goodbye to my body, goodbye to comfort,

    I used my legs and heart as if I would

    gladly use them up for this,

    to touch him again in this life. I ran, and the

    bags banged against me, wheeled and coursed

    in skewed orbits, I have seen pictures of

    women running, their belongings tied

    in scarves grasped in their fists, I blessed my

    long legs he gave me, my strong

    heart I abandoned to its own purpose,

    I ran to Gate 17 and they were

    just lifting the thick white

    lozenge of the door to fit into

    the socket of the plane. Like the one who is not

    too rich, I turned sidewise and

    slipped through the needle's eye, and then

    I walked down the aisle toward my father. The jet

    was full, and people's hair was shining, they were

    smiling, the interior of the plane was filled with a

    mist of gold endorphin light,

    I wept as people weep when they enter heaven,

    in massive relief. We lifted up

    gently from one tip of the continent

    and did not stop until we set down ightly on the

    other edge. I walked into his room

    and watched his chest rise slowly

    and sink again, all night

    I watched him breathe.

     

     

     

     

     

     

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