My Spanish professor may not be the best teacher, but he is one of the sweetest dudes I know.
So naturally, when he walks into class nine minutes late (which isn’t exactly irregular, he’s been late before) with a mournful look on his face (which is irregular, since he’s normally quite chipper), we ask what’s going on.
“Chicos,” he tells us, “the world’s greatest poet passed away today.” He goes onto tell us about Derek Walcott and his revolutionary poetry for five minutes before opening up PowerPoint to a listening exercise. His mouse hovers over and threatens to start playing the obnoxious opening to the fictional “Blablabla” podcast, which will spout useless drivel that we’ll parrot back in some way, shape or form.
“Yo odio el podcast.” His sneer is tinted with contempt. It’s then that a student chooses to pipe up and ask the professor what his favorite poem is. He then proceeds to spend another ten minutes searching for a readable version of the poem while I just sit and watch him desperately search.
And then- it appears- right in that sweet spot right before one is about to give up and return to classwork and right after the ineptitude stopped being funny.
The Light of the World is about the speaker of the poem encountering (and silently falling in love with) a beautiful woman on a bus. The professor talks about how beautiful and pure the feelings are, and the poem’s well-written.
And yet… it’s kind of creepy.
Because the poem’s admirably descriptive up until it gets kinda weird (from my POV). “Powerful and sweet odours?” Nooooooo thank you, fam.
“Don’t tell me that you haven’t found someone so beautiful that you fell in love at first sight?” The professor implored to our silent (and probably dead inside) class. “That you could see an entire life with them?”
“Daniel, por favor.”
I could only respond with a noncommittal “ehhhhh.”
Because let’s be honest for a second here, friends, I haven’t even planned what my next meal is gonna be, much less my entire life.
At any rate, silly little story for y’all. Cheers!