This is a poem I love quoting to the busy bodies of the world, especially the first two lines, and on its utterance, the effect is usually of silent agreement or a sigh of resignation. I am yet to witness an iota of protest on its rendering, understandably so, for the lines of WH Davies stand out more noticeably than they ever did before.
Scour you eyes a little over the urban landscape. People seem to be always on the run, the instruments of distraction are manifold now - the television screen is passe, we have cell phones, laptops, iPads, gaming consoles, social networking sites, unreasonably expensive shopping malls, choked-up traffic and mayhem. Not one lingering moment, no simple singularity of pleasure and in such blind, floating conditions the words stand out sparkling and true.
by WH Davies
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
(Article by Snehith Kumbla)