One art by Elizabeth Bishop
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, ornext-to-last, of three loved 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!) like disaster.
Heard it from 《In Her Shoes》
We lose something everyday
whether we notice it or not
whether we care about it or not
time, life, some worn out clothes
so, if we can master it , it should be an art
to lose something gently, with no regret
even with a bit relief
but that's not the point of this poem
it is actually about some painful losing
when it occurs, it occurs like a disaster
it ruins everything, distorys all
strangely, is like losing some trivial stuff
(his voice, his smile, his gesture)
something you never care to collect to remember
cause it's always there
and losing someone is to lose small pieces of memory of him,
to lose, gradually, tiny details of him
till you can't remember(even if you wanna )
and the funny thing is,
it will never be like it has never existed at all
(even though you hope so )