That was a thought-provoking dialogue from a heartwarming scene of tonight's episode of Breakout. The translated lines are as follows:
Xiaoying (the tragic female lead in search for vengeance): I have found daddy's diary. I am currently examining it closely. I hope to find some trace of clues that would lead to the identity of the person who murdered my family.
Zou Jieming (a talented but autistic guy who lives in his own world): Has Xiaoying seen it?
Zou Jieming: Has Xiaoying seen it?
Xiaoying: Flowers. Yup, I've seen them.
Zou Jieming: Blooming, blooming. The flowers are blooming.
Xiaoying: Blooming? Nope, I don't see that. Let's go, Zou Jieming.
Zou Jieming. Flowers are blooming. Flowers are withering.
Leaves are budding. Leaves are falling down.
The sky turns blue. The sky turns white.
The Sun rises. The Sun sets.
Why hasn't Xiaoying seen them?
Indeed, we overlook a lot of simple beauty around us in life in our earnest quest to survive in this dog-eat-dog world. Even though the wonders of nature surround us everyday, we remain blind to them, staying obsessed with our many feuds, our hatred and the bitterness that lingers on in our hearts. This is where Nobel laureate Wislawa Szymborska's poem Miracle fair may offer some food for thought:
Commonplace miracle:that so many commonplace miracles happen.An ordinary miracle:in the dead of nightthe barking of invisible dogs.One miracle out of many:a small, airy cloudyet it can block a large and heavy moon.Several miracles in one:an alder tree reflected in the water,and that it's backwards left to rightand that it grows there, crown downand never reaches the bottom,even though the water is shallow.An everyday miracle:winds weak to moderateturning gusty in storms.First among equal miracles:cows are cows.Second to none:just this orchardfrom just that seed.A miracle without a cape and top hat:scattering white doves.A miracle, for what else could you call it:today the sun rose at three-fourteenand will set at eight-o-one.A miracle, less surprising than it should be:even though the hand has fewer than six fingers,it still has more than four.A miracle, just take a look around:the world is everywhere.An additional miracle, as everything is additional:the unthinkableis thinkable.
Translated by Joanna Trzeciak. More inspiring works from Wislawa Szymborska can be found in the anthology featured on the left named after this poem.