Poetry 180, blog de poesia infantil de la Library of Congress

Difondre la poesia infantil i juvenil és una tasca a realitzar per les diferents institucions vinculades amb el foment de la lectura, les biblioteques entre elles. Este és l'objectiu principal d'aquest bloc -realitzat des de la Biblioteca Pública Municipal de Cocentaina i, acabem de descobrir, que compartim aquest mateix objectiu amb una altra biblioteca molt més gran, molt més important, molt llunyana: The Library of Congress d'Estats Units, la "crème de la crème" de les biblioteques mundials.

Hi tenen un bloc, Poetry 180, a poem a day for american high schools, amb poemes infantils de diferents autors de totes les edats. A la pàgina de benvinguda ens diu:

Welcome to Poetry 180. Poetry can and should be an important part of our daily lives. Poems can inspire and make us think about what it means to be a member of the human race. By just spending a few minutes reading a poem each day, new worlds can be revealed.

Poetry 180 is designed to make it easy for students to hear or read a poem on each of the 180 days of the school year. I have selected the poems you will find here with high school students in mind. They are intended to be listened to, and I suggest that all members of the school community be included as readers. A great time for the readings would be following the end of daily announcements over the public address system.

En resumen, la poesia pot i deu ser una part important de les nostres vides. Els poemes poden inspirar-mos i fer-mos pensar en el què és ser i formar part de la humanitat. Tan sols dedicant uns estoneta al dia llegint poesia podrem descobrir nous mons. Així, Poesia 180 està dissenyada de tal manera que cadascun del 180 dies lectius escolar els estudiant puguen trobar un poema.

Un dels poemes que hi podem llegir és, The bat (el rat-penat), de Theodore Roethke

The Bat

By day the bat is cousin to the mouse.

He likes the attic of an aging house.
His fingers make a hat about his head.

His pulse beat is so slow we think him dead.
He loops in crazy figures half the night

Among the trees that face the corner light.
But when he brushes up against a screen,

We are afraid of what our eyes have seen:
For something is amiss or out of place

When mice with wings can wear a human face.