"It is believed that the onion originally came from India. In Egypt it was an
object of worship —why I haven't been able to find out. From Egypt the onion
entered Greece and on to Italy, thence into all of Europe." — Better Living Cookbook
When I think how far the onion has traveled
just to enter my stew today, I could kneel and praise
all small forgotten miracles,
crackly paper peeling on the drainboard,
pearly layers in smooth agreement,
the way the knife enters onion
and onion falls apart on the chopping block,
a history revealed.
And I would never scold the onion
for causing tears.
It is right that tears fall
for something small and forgotten.
How at meal, we sit to eat,
commenting on texture of meat or herbal aroma
but never on the translucence of onion,
now limp, now divided,
or its traditionally honorable career:
For the sake of others,
disappear.
I would never scold the onion for causing tears. It is right that tears fall for something small and forgotten... thinking of the travel of onion and the tears it makes.. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
" It is believed that the onion originally came from India. In Egypt it was an object of worship —why I haven't been able to find out. From Egypt the onion entered Greece and on to Italy, thence into all of Europe interesting poem and new knowledge. tony