القصيدة للشاعرة إليزابيث جينينغز، تتحدث عن الآمال والمخاوف والإجراءات الروتينية التي تتطور أثناء إقامة طويلة في المستشفى.
ما هي قصيدة Sequence in a Hospital
I Pain
At my wits’ end
,And all resources gone, I lay here
,All of my body tense to the touch of fear
,And my mind
Muffled now as if the nerves
,Refused any longer to let thoughts form
,Is no longer a safe retreat, a tidy home
No longer serves
My body’s demands or shields
,With fine words, as it once would daily
,My storehouse of dread. Now, slowly
My heart, hand, whole body yield
To fear. Bed, ward, window begin
To lose their solidity. Faces no longer
Look kind or needed; yet I still fight the stronger
.Terror – oblivion – the needle thrusts in
II The Ward
,One with the photographs of grandchildren
,Another with discussion of disease
,Another with the memory of her garden
Another with her marriage – all of these
Keep death at bay by building round their illness
.A past they never honoured at the time
The sun streams through the window, the earth heaves
Gently for this new season. Blossoms climb
Out on the healthy world where no one thinks
;Of pain. Nor would these patients wish them to
–The great preservers here are little things
.The dream last night, a photograph, a view
III After an Operation
,What to say first? I learnt I was afraid
Not frightened in the way I had been
When wide awake and well, I simply mean
Fear became absolute and I became
.Subject to it; it beckoned, I obeyed
,Fear which before had been particular
,Attached to this or that scene, word, event
Here became general. Past, future meant
Nothing. Only the present moment bore
.This huge, vague fear, this wish for nothing more
Yet life still stirred and nerves themselves became
Like shoots which hurt while growing, sensitive
.To find not death but further ways to live
And now I’m convalescent, fear can claim
.No general power. Yet I am not the same
IV Patients in a Public Ward
,Like children now, bed close to bed
With flowers set up where toys would be
In real childhoods, secretly
,We cherish each our own disease
And when we talk we talk to please
.Ourselves that still we are not dead
All is kept safe – the healthy world
.Held at a distance, on a rope
Where human things like hate and hope
Persist. The world we know is full
Of things we need, unbeautiful
And yet desired – a glass to hold
And sip, a cube of ice, a pill
To help us sleep. Yet in this warm
And sealed-off nest, the least alarm
;Speaks clear of death. Our fears grow wide
There are no places left to hide
.And no more peace in lying still
V The Visitors
They visit me and I attempt to keep
A social smile upon my face. Even here
Some ceremony is required, no deep
Relationship, simply a way to clear
Emotion to one side; the fear
.I felt last night is buried in drugged sleep
They come and all their kindness makes me want
.To cry (they say the sick weep easily)
,When they have gone I shall be limp and faint
;My heart will thump and stumble crazily
Yet through my illness I can see
.One wish stand clear no pain, no fear can taint
Your absence has been stronger than all pain
And I am glad to find that when most weak
.Always my mind returned to you again
–Through all the noisy nights when, harsh awake, I longed for day and light to break
.In that sick desert, you were life, were rain
VI Hospital
Observe the hours which seem to stand
Between these beds and pause until
A shriek breaks through the time to show
.That humankind is suffering still
,Observe the tall and shrivelled flowers
.So brave a moment to the glance
The fevered eyes stare through the hours
.And petals fall with soft foot-prints
A world where silence has no hold
.Except a tentative small grip
,Limp hands upon the blankets fold
.Minds from their bodies slowly slip
,Though death is never talked of here
–It is more palpable and felt
–Touching the cheek or in a tear
.By being present by default
,The muffled cries, the curtains drawn
–The flowers pale before they fall
The world itself is here brought down
.To what is suffering and small
,The huge philosophies depart
,Large words slink off, like faith, like love
The thumping of the human heart
.Is reassurance here enough
Only one dreamer going back
,To how he felt when he was well
Weeps under pillows at his lack
.But cannot tell, but cannot tell
VII For a Woman with a Fatal Illness
The verdict has been given and you lie quietly
.Beyond hope, hate, revenge, even self-pity
–You accept gratefully the gifts – flowers, fruit
Clumsily offered now that your visitors too
,Know you must certainly die in a matter of months
,They are dumb now, reduced only to gestures
Helpless before your news, perhaps hating
.You because you are the cause of their unease
,I, too, watching from my temporary corner
–Feel impotent and wish for something violent
–Whether as sympathy only, I am not sure
.But something at least to break the terrible tension
.Death has no right to come so quietly
VIII Patients
.Violence does not terrify
,Storms here would be a relief
.Lightning be a companion to grief
It is the helplessness, the way they lie
,Beyond hope, fear, love
,That makes me afraid. I would like to shout
Crash my voice into the silence, flout
The passive suffering here. They move
Only in pain, their bodies no longer seem
.Dependent on blood, muscle, bone
It is as if air alone
Kept them alive, or else a mere whim
.On the part of instrument, surgeon, nurse
I too am one of them, but well enough
,To long for some simple sign of life
.Or to imagine myself getting worse
ملخص قصيدة Sequence in a Hospital
تختلف كل أقسام هذه القطعة في مخطط القافية الخاصة بها، يبدأ تسلسل الأحداث هذا بمتحدثة فقدت كل أمل، إنها في السرير تعاني من فقدان السيطرة على جسدها وقدرة عقلها على إخفاء حقيقة وضعها عنها، فهي تحارب لأن هذا الواقع الوحيد الذي لا تزال قادرة على إدراكه أفضل من نسيان الإبرة.
تتحدث عن أهل المستشفى الذين يشبهون الأطفال المحشورين في الفراش معًا، الغرف ضيقة ولكن بدلاً من أن تمتلئ بالألعاب فهي مليئة بالورود، هناك زوار يأتون إلى المستشفى وتصف كيف أنها عندما يزورونها ترسم ابتسامة اجتماعية لتحيتهم، يجب أن تتظاهر ثم تستخدم القوة التي اكتسبتها منهم لاحقًا عندما تكون في أمس الحاجة إليها.
هناك تحركات المرضى، وانزلاق أذهانهم، ومعاناة البشرية، يمكن سماع الموت ورؤيته في كل مكان، على الرغم من عدم الحديث عنه، تبدأ القصيدة في الختام بأفكار امرأة تحتضر يكرهها زوارها لأنها تسبب لهم القلق، وأفكار الراوي الذي يرى هذه اللحظات المتوترة ويريد كسرها، وتصف رغبة هذا الراوي في أن يصبح إما جزءًا من المستشفى أو أن يحرر جميع المرضى من سكونهم الذي لا يطاق.
