Bosnia After the War Essays

The Immortal Splendor
By Indira Begovic
April 2000

The oft-cited lines by Wordsworth, "Though nothing can bring back the hour / of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower / we will grieve not rather find / strength in what remains behind" (X:10-13) testify to the ephemerality of human life and yet to the imperishability of memories. They are a kind of memo, always somewhere in my consciousness, giving me the fortitude to endure inevitable losses. "Which having been must ever be," (X:15) Wordsworth reiterates. As people we must be grateful for the gifts of life, for they do remain with us, and we must not lament what has gone.

All of us suffer heartbreaks. We lose relationships, but they can continue in our recollection. What they taught can echo in us forever.

Also, more the reason to be alert, to savor the delectable moments, a glance of affection, the sound of someone's voice, the smell of someone's skin. We must revel in the kiss of a breeze, the feeling of the sun on our faces after a long winter. These are treasures for retrospect.

Curiously enough however, in Wordsworth's old age, he was known to have regretted his passing glory. Could he have failed to take his own advice? Did he fail to know what a glorious legacy he was leaving to us in his poetry?

Indeed, writers by their art enlarge the collective human memory. Our grandparents read them; we read them; our children will read them. We find our own souls in their stories or verse. They offer us advice, insight, consolation.

Life is mingled in its joys and pain. The more we resolve to celebrate its poignancy, the more beautiful it is.

Work Cited
Wordsworth, William "Ode:Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood." Complete Poetical Works, 1888. 1999 <http://bartleby.com/145/ww331.html>