Berichten van 18 januari 2026 tot 19 januari 2026

Dolce far niente

Portret van broer en zus door Sergei Pavlenko, z.j.  

Brother And Sister

The shorn moon trembling indistinct on her path,
Frail as a scar upon the pale blue sky,
Draws towards the downward slope: some sorrow hath
Worn her down to the quick, so she faintly fares
Along her foot-searched way without knowing why
She creeps persistent down the sky’s long stairs.

Some day they see, though I have never seen,
The dead moon heaped within the new moon’s arms;
For surely the fragile, fine young thing had been
Too heavily burdened to mount the heavens so.
But my heart stands still, as a new, strong dread alarms
Me; might a young girl be heaped with such shadow of woe?

Since Death from the mother moon has pared us down to the quick,
And cast us forth like shorn, thin moons, to travel
An uncharted way among the myriad thick
Strewn stars of silent people, and luminous litter
Of lives which sorrows like mischievous dark mice chavel
To nought, diminishing each star’s glitter,

Since Death has delivered us utterly, naked and white,
Since the month of childhood is over, and we stand alone,
Since the beloved, faded moon that set us alight
Is delivered from us and pays no heed though we moan
In sorrow, since we stand in bewilderment, strange
And fearful to sally forth down the sky’s long range.

We may not cry to her still to sustain us here,
We may not hold her shadow back from the dark.
Oh, let us here forget, let us take the sheer
Unknown that lies before us, bearing the ark
Of the covenant onwards where she cannot go.
Let us rise and leave her now, she will never know.

D.H. Lawrence (11 september 1885 – 2 maart 1930)
St Mary’s Church in Eastwood, de geboorteplaats van D.H. Lawrence

Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 19^e januari ook mijn blog van 19 januari 2025 en ook mijn blog van 19 januari 2019 deel 1 en ook deel 2.

Dolce far niente

Broer en zus door Joan Eardley , 1955

Brother And Sister

“SISTER, sister, go to bed!
Go and rest your weary head.”
Thus the prudent brother said.

“Do you want a battered hide,
Or scratches to your face applied?”
Thus his sister calm replied.

“Sister, do not raise my wrath.
I’d make you into mutton broth
As easily as kill a moth”

The sister raised her beaming eye
And looked on him indignantly
And sternly answered, “Only try!”

Off to the cook he quickly ran.
“Dear Cook, please lend a frying-pan
To me as quickly as you can.”

And wherefore should I lend it you?”
“The reason, Cook, is plain to view.
I wish to make an Irish stew.”

“What meat is in that stew to go?”
“My sister’ll be the contents!”
“Oh”
“You’ll lend the pan to me, Cook?”
“No!”

Moral: Never stew your sister.

Lewis Carroll (27 januari 1832 – 14 januari 1898)
De All Saints’ parish church in Daresbury, de geboorteplaats vanLewis Carroll

Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 18^e januari ook mijn blog van 18 januari 2025 en ook mijn blog van 18 januari 2019 en ook mijn blog van 18 januari 2015 deel 2 en ook deel 3.