Bilingual
Speaking a foreign tongue
I stuttered at first
And then I told myself
Of my insatiable thirst
For adventure.
I told myself of the people
Who lived in foreign lands,
Who wore foreign clothes,
And whose shores had foreign sand.
Thus I braced myself and stuttered on.
I carried on at a snail's pace.
I mispronounced foreign words.
I stitched together new sentences.
Until I could speak in a new tongue.
@ListeningRoses56
Such a pleasant little poem. I really liked both the message of embracing another language as well as the wider tone of perseverance. I thought the delivery of the last four lines individually really helped set the feel of the early faltering steps, gradual progress, proficiency growth, and eventual fluency. I enjoyed it both for it's surface meaning and the applicability of the broader theme.
Gut gemacht, molodets, bra gjort, bien hecho, gàn de hǎo, yoku yatta, shabash, ahsant, da iawn, maith thú, and a hearty well done!
@ListeningRoses56 This poem really hit me in the feels. English isn’t my mother tongue, though it’s the first language I learnt, and I even think in English now – something I’m both proud of and a bit ashamed of. I know my mother tongue, but I’m not as fluent in it, and it breaks my heart. I try so hard to keep it up. The funny thing is, I’m good with languages – I can speak several fluently. But sometimes, I stutter in my own language, and it feels like I’m not truly myself, like I’m walking in shoes that are too big for me. So yeah, even though our struggles might be different, I can really relate to the underlying feeling. Learning new languages, traveling to foreign worlds. I see you.
Love your poems. Keep them coming.
@azurePond I understand what you mean because English is a second language for me too. I too can think in English now and I write better in English than my native tongue. I feel sad that my culture is slowly dying.
I feel the guilt but I am still grateful because learning English opened up gates to new cultures for me due to its international use.