We have just celebrated the “Inter Hall Cultural Festival 2009” in our university. It was a colorful, joyous, exciting event which is ever-loving to me, to all students of Khulna University of Engineering and Technology (KUET). The auditorium was full of performances during those 3 days. Different types of events… colors and lights everywhere 😀
I took part in the English Poetry Recitation Competition. The poem was “The world is too much with us” by William Wordsworth. A sweet poem, lots of realization and lessons inside. I competed along with 20 others competitors in the competitions.
I was in tension regarding result. This is the only competition where I had always placed first in my life—starting from my school up to the college. Reaching to the very last days of my university life, I have again taken part in such a competition. At the last day of the cultural festival, the result was announced in the university auditorium… I was sitting behind all the audiences and waited for the result. And when the turn came, I heard that—“the first of English Poetry Recitation is ………. “
I couldn’t believe my ears! I wished to be confirmed that I had really heard my name…. a younger brother of my junior batch asked me to go to the stage for the photo session. 😛
I thanked God for his blessings for making me unbeaten in poetry recitation through-out my life. This might be very simple achievement for anyone, but I know how it worked to me. I am glad as I started to forget the taste of being best…… I am regaining the trust on me….
I wish to share the poem with you. I am happy today 🙂
The World Is Too Much With Us
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.–Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
by- William Wordsworth