Let me try to give you a theme! !
Technically, this is a well-organized five-stanza poem with ABABA rhyme form and eight syllables per line.
This poem is melancholy and sad, describing a terminal at San Francisco Airport (it would be biased to translate terminal as destination), and the author's feelings of seeing off his daughter. He struggled to control his inner worries about letting his daughter leave.
As a poem of 'organic poetry', first of all, the author sits at the airport and looks at the scene in front of him: the lights, the flash of metal on the aircraft fuselage in the middle of the night; the person sleeping next to him Daughter, "petite, calm, fragile" (contained without t, which should mean 'calm' here). What he saw then made him ponder his past life experiences and his daughter's upcoming journey alone. She will experience and learn from many new things, just as he has experienced them before. He didn't want her to leave, worried that she might be in danger, but he knew it was inevitable. This is why he connects the past with the present, allowing his inner feelings to be felt on the outside. His musings then led to a poetic explosion in which he revealed his inner struggles through the use of vague and ambiguous words and the use of metaphors to reveal their powerful and unlimited hidden meanings. Also, the author uses many relative words in the poem, "hard" and "fragile", "bright" and "night", "the frighten brain" and "passion", which fully show the author's fatherly love for his daughter and her daughter's departure. ambivalence caused by fear.
At The San Francisco Airport
to my daughter,1954 (To my daughter, 1954)
This is the terminal: the light< /p>
Gives perfect vision, false and hard;
The metal glitters, deep and bright/
Great planes are waiting in the yard-
They are already in the night.
This is the terminal: lighting
Present a perfect vision, illusory and real
The flash of metal on the fuselage, Profound and dazzling
The huge planes are waiting on the ground
They are ready under the night
And you are here beside me, small.
Contained and fragile, and intent
On things that I but half recall-
Yet going whither you are bent.
I am the past, and that is all.
And you are beside me, petite
calm and fragile, but determined to long for the things I have forgotten
However, the places you insist on going to are all things I have experienced before, that's all.
But you and I in part are one:
The frightened brain, the nervous will,
The knowledge of what must be done,
The passion to acquire the skill
To face that which you dare not shun.
But you and I are one and the same
Fearful nerves, nervousness Determination
Know what must be done
Passion to learn skills
Cope with everything you dare not avoid
The rain of matter upon sense
Destroys me momently. The score:
There comes what will come. The expense
Is what one thought, and something more-
There comes what will come. p>
One's being and intelligence.
The rain of questions flooding my feelings
Destroys me every moment. Result:
What is coming is coming.
I thought that was all I gave, but I still have the spirit and wisdom of a person
This is the terminal, the break.
Beyond this point, on lines of air,
You take the way that you must take;
And I remain in light and stare-
In light , and nothing else, awake.
This is the terminal, an opportunity
Beyond this world, soar into the sky
You embark on a journey that must be experienced
And I stayed under the light, staring
at the light, nothing else but difficulty in falling asleep,