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De Braziliaanse dichter en schrijver Mário de Andrade werd op 9 oktober 1893 in São Paulo in Brazilië geboren. Zie ook mijn blog van 9 oktober 2006 en ook mijn blog van 9 oktober 2008 en ook mijn blog van 8 oktober 2009.
Aspiration
The sweetness of poverty like this
To lose everything your, even the egoism of being,
So poor that you can only belong to the crowd
I gave away everything mine, I spent all my being,
And I possess only what in me is common to all..
The sweetness of poverty like this
I am not lonely any more, I am dissolved among equal men!
I have walked. Long my way
The emphatic mark of my steps
Remained on ground wet with morning dew.
Then the Sun ascended, heat vibrated in the air
In golden particles of light and warm breath.
The ground burned and hardened.
The mark of my feet is now invisible
But the Earth remains, the tenderly dumb Earth,
And growing, grieving, dying in Earth,
The always equal men remain
And I feel larger, equalizing myself to the equal men!...
The Girl And The Goat
The girl fights to pull the goat,
Totally terrified, sliding on the pavement
Among the bells of the streetcars
And the speed of the dusty automobiles.
A whole herd of goats
The goats graze on the mid-day grass
And in the dead solitude of the mountain
Not a single sound of a car horn.
Ugly dog with big eyes hidden in his hair,
Near he stones moved by the little lizards,
Where the hot sun flounders in the troubled water,
Fixes his teeth in the golden cheese
Licias, the herdsman.
Vertaald door John Nist en Yolanda Leite
Mário de Andrade (9 oktober 1893 25 februari 1945)
De Noorse schrijver, schilder en essayist Jens Bjørneboe werd geboren op 9 oktober 1920 in Kristiansand. Zie ook mijn blog van 9 oktober 2008 en ook mijn blog van 8 oktober 2009.
Uit: Semmelweis (Vertaald door Joe Martin)
SEMMELWEIS: Child-bed fever is a blood poisoning, brought about by a septic virus which is generated in the cadavers. If it is introduced into the bloodstream of a living body, it will die. The viral agents enter the blood of the pregnant women by way of the hands of the physicians or others during examinations. It is the students who-with their fingers soiled from the autopsies-transmit germs from the cadavers to the genitals of the pregnant women. That's the theory.
SKODA: It seems
[He stops, stiffens and stares at him] If you are right about this, you will never be forgiven.
SEMMELWEIS: What do you mean, Citizen Skoda?
SKODA: That is unforgivable.
SEMMELWEIS: It's the truth.
SKODA: [pacing] Do you know what you're saying? When the physician sits at the bedside of the sick, he is not the doctor, he is the disease!
SEMMELWEIS: That's true.
SKODA: You are saying that everyone who has dealt with patients in this manner has personally transmitted the disease!
SEMMELWEIS: Yes.
SKODA: What do you think that your typical obstetrician will say to the accusation? Do you think they would confess to having killed hundreds of thousands?
SEMMELWEIS: People must yield to the facts.
SKODA: People will not do so. You will be attacked as a slanderer, a dilettante, an ignoramus, a maniac, a hateful, malicious grumbler.
SEMMELWEIS: They are men of science!
SKODA: Prestige and authority are not reconcilable with scientific thought. You will be attacked. And with every means at their disposal.
SEMMELWEIS: The facts can't be denied.
SKODA: Of course the facts can be denied. It's what the authorities have always done.
Jens Bjørneboe (9 oktober 1920 9 mei 1976)
De Senegalese schrijver Léopold Senghor werd geboren op 9 oktober 1906 in het plaatsje Joal aan de Atlantische kust, zo'n 70 kilometer van de Senegalese hoofdstad Dakar. Zie ook mijn blog van 13 oktober 2007 en ook mijn blog van 9 oktober 2008 en ook mijn blog van 8 oktober 2009.
To New York
(for jazz orchestra and trumpet solo)
I.
New York! At first I was bewildered by your beauty,
Those huge, long-legged, golden girls.
So shy, at first, before your blue metallic eyes and icy smile,
So shy. And full of despair at the end of skyscraper streets
Raising my owl eyes at the eclipse of the sun.
Your light is sulphurous against the pale towers
Whose heads strike lightning into the sky,
Skyscrapers defying storms with their steel shoulders
And weathered skin of stone.
But two weeks on the naked sidewalks of Manhattan
At the end of the third week the fever
Overtakes you with a jaguars leap
Two weeks without well water or pasture all birds of the air
Fall suddenly dead under the high, sooty terraces.
No laugh from a growing child, his hand in my cool hand.
No mothers breast, but nylon legs. Legs and breasts
Without smell or sweat. No tender word, and no lips,
Only artificial hearts paid for in cold cash
And not one book offering wisdom.
The painters palette yields only coral crystals.
Sleepless nights, O nights of Manhattan!
Stirring with delusions while car horns blare the empty hours
And murky streams carry away hygenic loving
Like rivers overflowing with the corpses of babies.
Vertaald door Melvin Dixon
Léopold Sédar Senghor (9 oktober 1906 - 20 december 2001)
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