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adam thorpe on her blindness

Original Poetry

Translation

adam thorpe on her blindness

Adam Thorpe on her blindness

My mother could not bear being blind,

My mother couldn't stand being blind,

to be honest. One shouldn’t say it.

to be honest. People don't usually say it.

One should hide the fact that catastrophic

People tend to hide that severe

handicaps are hell; one tends to hear,

disabilities are awful; you usually hear

publicly from those who bear it

from those who endure it

like a Roman, or somehow find joy

like a stoic, or find some joy

in the fight. She turned to me, once,

in the struggle. She once turned to me,

in a Paris restaurant, still not finding

in a Paris restaurant, still unable to find

the food on the plate with her fork,

the food on her plate with her fork,

or not so that it stayed on (try it

or not able to keep it on (try it

in a pitch-black room) and whispered,

in total darkness) and whispered,

“It’s living hell, to be honest Adam.

"It's a living hell, to be honest Adam.

If I gave up hope of a cure, I’d bump

If I lost hope for a cure, I'd end

myself off.” I don’t recall what I replied,

my own life." I don't remember what I said,

but it must have been the usual sop,

but it was probably the usual comfort,

inadequate: the locked-in son.

inadequate: the helpless son.

She kept her dignity, though, even when

She maintained her dignity, even when

bumping into walls like a dodgem; her sense

bumping into walls like a bumper car; her senses

My mother could not bear being blind,

alive with color, the ground covered

to be honest. One shouldn’t say it.

with fallen leaves. I told her this, forgetting,

One should hide the fact that catastrophic

as she sat too weak to move, staring

handicaps are hell; one tends to hear,

at nothing. "Oh yes, I know," she said,

publicly from those who bear it

"it's lovely out there." Dying hasn't made her

like a Roman, or somehow find joy

any more blind, but now she can't

in the fight. She turned to me, once,

pretend. Her eyes were closed

in a Paris restaurant, still not finding

in the coffin; it was up to us to believe

the food on the plate with her fork,

she was watching, somewhere, in the end

or not so that it stayed on (try it

in a pitch-black room) and whispered,

“It’s living hell, to be honest Adam.

If I gave up hope of a cure, I’d bump

myself off.” I don’t recall what I replied,

but it must have been the usual sop,

inadequate: the locked-in son.

She kept her dignity, though, even when

bumping into walls like a dodgem; her sense

ablaze with colour, the ground royal

with leaf-fall. I told her this, forgetting,

as she sat too weak to move, staring

at nothing. “Oh yes, I know,” she said,

“it’s lovely out there.” Dying has made her

no more sightless, but now she can’t

pretend. Her eyelids were closed

in the coffin; it was up to us to believe

she was watching, somewhere, in the end

Explanation

Adam Thorpe's poem 'On Her Blindness' is a poignant reflection on his mother's struggle with blindness. The poem candidly addresses the societal pressure to endure disabilities with stoicism, contrasting this with his mother's honest admission of her suffering. She confides in her son, expressing the despair and frustration of her condition, which she describes as a 'living hell.' Despite her challenges, she maintains her dignity, even as her physical limitations become more apparent. The poem also explores themes of denial and acceptance, as Thorpe's mother pretends to see beauty in the world, even when she cannot. Her death is depicted as a continuation of her blindness, but without the pretense of sight. The poem's title references John Milton's 'On His Blindness,' but Thorpe's work challenges the notion of enduring suffering without complaint, offering a more personal and vulnerable perspective. The poem's free verse form allows for a conversational tone, enhancing its emotional impact.

Word Dictionary10

Word	English میں	سادہ (English)	Pron.
bear	endure	to tolerate or endure something difficult	behr
catastrophic	disastrous	extremely harmful or disastrous	kat-uh-strof-ik
handicaps	disabilities	physical or mental conditions that limit a person's movements, senses, or activities	han-di-kaps
Roman	stoic	referring to stoic endurance, like ancient Romans	roh-muhn
dodgem	bumper car	a small electric car used in amusement parks, known for bumping into others	doj-em
ablaze	brightly lit	filled with bright colors or light	uh-bleyz
royal	majestic	resembling or fit for a king or queen; majestic	roi-uhl
leaf-fall	fallen leaves	leaves that have fallen from trees	leef-fawl
pretend	act	to act as if something is true when it is not	pri-tend
coffin	casket	a box in which a dead body is buried	kaw-fin

Poet & Context

PoetAdam Thorpe

EraContemporary

Adam Thorpe is a British poet and novelist born on December 5, 1956. His works include poetry, novels, short stories, and radio dramas. He frequently contributes to various literary publications.

View on Wikipedia

When2007

WhyThe poem 'On Her Blindness' is part of Adam Thorpe's 2007 collection 'Birds With a Broken Wing'. It is an autobiographical reflection on his mother's experience with blindness, contrasting societal expectations of stoicism with personal suffering.

FormFree verse

Themes & More

Themes

DisabilityDenialFamilySuffering

Literary devices

Metaphor: 'living hell' to describe the experience of blindness.Imagery: 'ablaze with colour, the ground royal with leaf-fall' creates a vivid picture.Allusion: Reference to John Milton's 'On His Blindness'.Irony: Despite being blind, the mother is described as seeing beauty.

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شاعر پر واپس

adam thorpe on her blindness

Original Poetry

Translation

adam thorpe on her blindness

Adam Thorpe on her blindness

My mother could not bear being blind,

My mother couldn't stand being blind,

to be honest. One shouldn’t say it.

to be honest. People don't usually say it.

One should hide the fact that catastrophic

People tend to hide that severe

handicaps are hell; one tends to hear,

disabilities are awful; you usually hear

publicly from those who bear it

from those who endure it

like a Roman, or somehow find joy

like a stoic, or find some joy

in the fight. She turned to me, once,

in the struggle. She once turned to me,

in a Paris restaurant, still not finding

in a Paris restaurant, still unable to find

the food on the plate with her fork,

the food on her plate with her fork,

or not so that it stayed on (try it

or not able to keep it on (try it

in a pitch-black room) and whispered,

in total darkness) and whispered,

“It’s living hell, to be honest Adam.

"It's a living hell, to be honest Adam.

If I gave up hope of a cure, I’d bump

If I lost hope for a cure, I'd end

myself off.” I don’t recall what I replied,

my own life." I don't remember what I said,

but it must have been the usual sop,

but it was probably the usual comfort,

inadequate: the locked-in son.

inadequate: the helpless son.

She kept her dignity, though, even when

She maintained her dignity, even when

bumping into walls like a dodgem; her sense

bumping into walls like a bumper car; her senses

My mother could not bear being blind,

alive with color, the ground covered

to be honest. One shouldn’t say it.

with fallen leaves. I told her this, forgetting,

One should hide the fact that catastrophic

as she sat too weak to move, staring

handicaps are hell; one tends to hear,

at nothing. "Oh yes, I know," she said,

publicly from those who bear it

"it's lovely out there." Dying hasn't made her

like a Roman, or somehow find joy

any more blind, but now she can't

in the fight. She turned to me, once,

pretend. Her eyes were closed

in a Paris restaurant, still not finding

in the coffin; it was up to us to believe

the food on the plate with her fork,

she was watching, somewhere, in the end

or not so that it stayed on (try it

in a pitch-black room) and whispered,

“It’s living hell, to be honest Adam.

If I gave up hope of a cure, I’d bump

myself off.” I don’t recall what I replied,

but it must have been the usual sop,

inadequate: the locked-in son.

She kept her dignity, though, even when

bumping into walls like a dodgem; her sense

ablaze with colour, the ground royal

with leaf-fall. I told her this, forgetting,

as she sat too weak to move, staring

at nothing. “Oh yes, I know,” she said,

“it’s lovely out there.” Dying has made her

no more sightless, but now she can’t

pretend. Her eyelids were closed

in the coffin; it was up to us to believe

she was watching, somewhere, in the end

Explanation

Word Dictionary10

Word	English میں	سادہ (English)	Pron.
bear	endure	to tolerate or endure something difficult	behr
catastrophic	disastrous	extremely harmful or disastrous	kat-uh-strof-ik
handicaps	disabilities	physical or mental conditions that limit a person's movements, senses, or activities	han-di-kaps
Roman	stoic	referring to stoic endurance, like ancient Romans	roh-muhn
dodgem	bumper car	a small electric car used in amusement parks, known for bumping into others	doj-em
ablaze	brightly lit	filled with bright colors or light	uh-bleyz
royal	majestic	resembling or fit for a king or queen; majestic	roi-uhl
leaf-fall	fallen leaves	leaves that have fallen from trees	leef-fawl
pretend	act	to act as if something is true when it is not	pri-tend
coffin	casket	a box in which a dead body is buried	kaw-fin

Poet & Context

PoetAdam Thorpe

EraContemporary

Adam Thorpe is a British poet and novelist born on December 5, 1956. His works include poetry, novels, short stories, and radio dramas. He frequently contributes to various literary publications.

View on Wikipedia

When2007

FormFree verse

Themes & More

Themes

DisabilityDenialFamilySuffering

Literary devices