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De Indiase schrijver Rasipuran Krishnaswami Narayan werd geboren op 10 oktober 1906 in Madras. Zie ook mijn blog van 10 oktober 2009.xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
Uit: The English Teacher
"Wife, child, brothers, parents, friends...We come together only to go apart again. It is one continuous movement. They move away from us as we move away from them. The law of life cannot be avoided. The law comes into operation the moment we detach ourselves from our mother's womb. All struggle and misery in life is due to our attempt to arrest this law or get away from it or in allowing ourselves to be hurt by it. The fact must be recognized. A profound unmitigated loneliness is the only truth of life. All else is false."
R. K. Narayan (10 oktober 1906 13 mei 2001)
De Brits - Amerikaanse schrijver en regisseur James Clavell (pseudoniem van Charles Edmund DuMaresq de Clavelle) werd geboren op 10 oktober 1924 in Sydney. Zie ook mijn blog van 10 oktober 2008 en ook mijn blog van 10 oktober 2009.
Uit: King Rat
Im going to get that bloody bastard if I die in the attempt. Lieutenant Grey was glad that at last he had spoken aloud what had so long been twisting his guts into a knot. The venom in Greys voice snapped Sergeant Masters out of his reverie. He had been thinking about a bottle of ice-cold Australian beer and a steak with a fried egg on top and his home in Sydney and his wife and the breasts and smell of her. He didnt bother to follow the lieutenants gaze out the window. He knew who it had to be among the half-naked men walking the dirt path which skirted the barbed fence. But he was surprised at Greys outburst. Usually the Provost Marshal of Changi was as tight-lipped and unapproachable as any Englishman.
Save your strength, Lieutenant, Masters said wearily, the Japsll fix him soon enough.
Bugger the Japs, Grey said. I want to catch him. I want him in this jail. And when Ive done with himI want him in Utram Road Jail. Masters looked up aghast. Utram Road?
Certainly.
My oath, I can understand you wanting to get him, Masters said, but, well, I wouldnt wish that on anyone.
Thats where he belongs. And thats where Im going to put him. Because hes a thief, a liar, a cheat and a bloodsucker. A bloody vampire who feeds on the rest of us.
Grey got up and went closer to the window ofthe sweltering MP hut. He waved at the flies which swarmed from the plank floors and squinted his eyes against the refracted glare of the high noon light beating the packed earth. By God, he said, Ill have vengeance for all of us.
Good luck, mate, Masters thought. You can get the King if anyone can. Youve got the right amount of hate in you. Masters did not like officers and did not like Military Police. He particularly despised Grey, for Grey had been promoted from the ranks and tried to hide this fact from others.
James Clavell (10 oktober 1924 6 september 1994)
De Nederlandse dichteres, schrijfster en illustrator Rie Cramer werd geboren in Sukabumi op Java, ndonesië op 10 oktober 1887. Zie ook mijn blog van 10 oktober 2009.
Eén in uw diep verdriet
Holland, hoe hebben wij zoovele malen
Uw knusse kalmte hekelend, bespot,
Hoe spraken wij, verwaten, vreemde talen,
En waren zonder aandacht voor uw lot.
Maar zie, - nu weten wij ons diep verbonden,
Ons brandt eenzelfde smaad, eenzelfde smart,
Nu bloeden wij, verscheurd uit eendre wonden,
Nu bonkt ons hart naast aan uw eigen hart.
Nu liggen wij des nachts in 't donker wakker
En voelen bang het trillen van uw grond,
Als lagen wij dicht naast een ouden makker,
Wakend, waar hij ten doode werd gewond.
Hoe schrijnt het heimwee, nu w'u zien gehavend,
Naar oude stadjes in hun milde rust,
En naar uw weiden, dauwend in den avond,
En naar het wonder van uw zilvren kust.
Naar hooge lanen om een vredig buiten,
Naar 't kleppend klokje van een klein gehucht.
Naar blanke vaarten, donkre visschersschuiten,
En naar de wijdheid van uw wolkenlucht.
Hoe is het, dat ons hart zoo zelden heugde
De blijdschap om dit schoon, vertrouwd verschiet?
Holland, - nu het te laat is voor uw vreugde,
Laat ons dan één zijn in uw diep verdriet!
Rie Cramer (10 oktober 1887 - 18 juli 1977)
De Australische dichteres en schrijfster Louise Mack werd geboren op 10 oktober 1870 in Hobart, Tasmania. Zie ook mijn blog van 10 oktober 2009.
To Sydney
CITY, I never told you yet
O little City, let me tell
A secret woven of your wiles,
Dear City with the angel face,
And you will hear with frowning grace,
Or will you break in summer smiles?
This is the secret, little town,
Lying so lightly towards the sea;
City, my secret has no art,
Dear City with the golden door;
But oh, the whispers I would pour
Into your earsinto your heart!
You are my lover, little place,
Lying so sweetly all alone.
And yet I cannot, cannot tell
My secret, for the voice will break
That tries to tell of all the ache
Of this poor heart beneath your spell.
Dreaming, I tell you all my tale;
Tell how the tides that wash your feet
Sink through my heart and cut its cords.
Dreaming, I hold my arms, and drag
All, all into my heartthe flag
On the low hill turned harbourwards,
And all the curving little bays,
The hot, dust-ridden, narrow streets,
The languid turquoise of the sky,
The gardens flowing to the wave,
I drag them in. O City, save
The grave for me where I must lie.
Yet humbly I would try to build
Stone upon stone for this towns sake;
Humbly would try for you to aid
Those whose wise love for you will rear
White monuments far off and near,
White, but unsoiled, undesecrate.
Louise Mack (10 oktober 1870 - 23 november 1935)
De Finse dichter en schrijver Aleksis Kivi werd geboren als geboren Alexis Stenvall in Palojoki op 10 oktober 1834. Zie ook mijn blog van 10 oktober 2009.
Uit: Seven Brothers
JUHANI: On one corner of the earth a day of peace still gleams for us. Ilvesjärvi lake yonder, below Impivaara, is the harbour to which we can sail away from the storm. Now my mind is made up.
LAURI: Mine was made up last year already.
EERO: I'll follow you even into the deepest cave on Impivaara, where it is said the Old Man of the Mountains boils pitch, with a helmet made of a hundred sheepskins on his head.
TUOMAS: We'll all move there from here.
JUHANI: Thither we'll move and built a new world.
Aleksis Kivi (10 oktober 1834 - 31 december 1872)
Standbeeld in Helsinki
De Nederlandse dichter en schrijver Robidé van der Aa (eig. Christianus Petrus Eliza van der Aa) werd geboren op 10 oktober 1791 in Oosterbeek. Zie ook mijn blog van 10 oktober 2009.
Herfstliedje
Wie Lente bezinge, wij wijden ons lied
Het vruchtbaarst saizoen, dat er daagt;
Wanneer ons de tuin zijne bloemen nog biedt,
De boomgaard zijn vruchten reeds draagt;
Als 't appeltje, gloeijend van sierelijk rood,
Ons lacht uit het looverdak aan,
De saprijke peer als tot plukken ons noodt,
De wingerd zoo rijk is belaân.
't Is feest voor de landjeugd in boomgaard en veld,
Als, najaar, ge uw schatten ons biedt;
Daarom wordt gij vrolijk en dankbaar vermeld,
En wijden we u heden ons lied.
Robidé van der Aa (7 oktober 1791 14 mei 1851)
De Amerikaanse schrijver, zakenman en officier Kermit Roosevelt sr. Werd geboren op 10 oktober 1889 in Sagamore Hill in Oyster Bay, New York. Zie ook mijn blog van 10 oktober 2009.
Uit: War In The Garden Of Eden
It was at Taranto that we embarked for Mesopotamia. Reinforcements were sent out from England in one of two ways--either all the way round the Cape of Good Hope, or by train through France and Italy down to the desolate little seaport of Taranto, and thence by transport over to Egypt, through the Suez
Canal, and on down the Red Sea to the Indian Ocean and the Persian Gulf. The latter method was by far the shorter, but the submarine situation in the Mediterranean was such that convoying troops was a matter of great difficulty. Taranto is an ancient Greek town, situated at the mouth of a landlocked
harbor, the entrance to which is a narrow channel, certainly not more than two hundred yards across. The old part of the town is built on a hill, and the alleys and runways winding among the great stone dwellings serve as streets. As is the case with maritime towns, it is along the wharfs that the most interest centres. During one afternoon I wandered through the old town and listened to the fisherfolk
singing as they overhauled and mended their nets. Grouped around a stone archway sat six or seven women and girls. They were evidently members of one family--a grandmother, her daughters, and their children.
The old woman, wild, dark, and hawk-featured, was blind, and as she knitted she chanted some verses. I could only understand occasional words and phrases, but it was evidently a long epic. At intervals her listeners would break out in comments as they worked, but, like "Othere, the old sea-captain," she "neither paused nor stirred."
Kermit Roosevelt sr. (10 oktober 1889 4 juni 1943)
Portret door John Singer Sargent
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