There was this poem we were discussing in class, something about the words of gold. It was already the end of the class, so we didn’t have much time to talk about the poem because it wasn’t the main topic for that day. We only mentioned it as an example, but it still stuck with me the most.
The Words of Gold
The rough translation (that I sheepishly take as my right to provide) goes like this:
(The original title of this poem is Zlato riječi, and I pondered on how I should translate this because English doesn’t use the same construction or case form as Croatian does. I hope the context is still understandable, and I hope I didn’t do this poem injustice by accidentally changing the meaning.)
The Words of Gold
I’ll endue my
– Marina Kljajo-Radić
Suffering
With the gold of the Words
And no one
Will know
Where I got it from
The gold
Or where it disappeared
My Suffering
Words will
Find the eyes
For tears
Through times
My train of thought led me to the wrong station because I interpreted it wrong. I immediately went to the meaning of gold itself as a literal object. It’s lustrous. You’re easily distracted by its shine. That’s why you don’t see what’s beneath the surface.
I connected it with the notion that says that people who are rich and have everything – gold – are happy, and no one questions anything else. I linked the gold and suffering first, and not words and gold as in words as treasure. But I think I was on the right track. I just failed to explain what I meant.
Words are stones that can build an empire and cannons that can bring it to ruin. They have an impact, a weight that can bring new balance to the scale. They are a treasure.
But just like with gold, you can share them, use them to build, or hide and protect them.
To dress your words in gold means distracting those who look – who listen – with the shine of a pretty sight. Dressing my suffering in the gold of the words is saying I’m okay and hiding whatever else remains beneath that shiny surface.
Gold is a precious metal. Water doesn’t damage it. Tears won’t harm that gilded armor around you. Time doesn’t affect it either. It won’t tarnish or rust. Your gilded armor will do its job. You won’t have to worry about someone picking you apart like petals, looking for the answer they want to hear. The rampart will hold for as long as you need it.
The Power & Impact
Leaving campus, all I kept thinking about was this poem. How we can use different forms and images to talk about words is a meta sphere I enjoy spending time in.
Why gold and words? What brought the author to make that connection? Why not throw words into a well, let them connect with the groundwater, and run through the crevices and canals until they circle back to a spring somewhere under your eyes?
Words are amazing. The best tool we have. Why else would we be so afraid of them, so empowered by them? I love the endless possibilities we have with them. To witness how each mind puts those units together to express itself. It’s the most fascinating thing.
The treasury never goes empty. We can talk about the same thing, but it can sound so different. It blows my mind, that aspect of us.
Of course, you can also use them to conceal, deceive, or hurt. It may not travel well. A lot can get lost in the translation. (Maybe that’s why I understood this poem this way and not something else the author may have intended. But then again, once it’s out there, art can mean anything and everything. It’s enough that it gave me some food for thought.)
Does Time Damage Gold?
Reading about ancient tablets, thinking a whole other reality is written on them, and finding out that, through time, everything remained the same, and people from time long ago thought and cared about the same things is so cute and a lot less lonely. It’s reassuring, in a way.
The ability for temporal translocation of words (without their attenuation or failure to convey a message) is fascinating. They are gold, a treasure we need to guard. That’s why we value literature so much, and why ancient texts are still important today.
I traveled off the initial path I chose for this post, but I got caught up in the idea of the permanence of words. The meta-well never runs dry. I guess I am also distracted by the golden glimmer of them.
Closing the Treasure Chest
I tricked the dragon into letting me take some gold out of the vault, but I think I exhausted my luck. (I’m having so much fun with this!) It’s time to close the gates and go. I will see you in my next post. I hope you liked this one. If so, let me know, or if you would like to share your take on this poem, I would love to hear your thoughts.
Okay, thanks, bye!
My Little Hawk 