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De Engelse dichter William
Wordsworth werd geboren op 7 april 1770 in Cumberland. Zie ook alle tags voor
William Wordsworth op dit blog.
Daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
A Night Thought
Lo! where the Moon
along the sky
Sails with her happy destiny;
Oft is she hid from mortal eye
Or dimly seen,
But when the clouds asunder fly
How bright her mien!
Far different we--a froward race,
Thousands though rich in Fortune's grace
With cherished sullenness of pace
Their way pursue,
Ingrates who wear a smileless face
The whole year through.
If kindred humours e'er would make
My spirit droop for drooping's sake,
From Fancy following in thy wake,
Bright ship of heaven!
A counter impulse let me take
And be forgiven.
William Wordsworth (7 april 1770 23 april 1850)
De Chileense
dichteres en diplomate Gabriela Mistral werd geboren in Vicuña, Chili op 7 april
1889. Zie ook alle tags voor
Gabriela Mistral op dit blog.
The Lark
You said that you loved the lark more than
any other bird because of its straight flight toward the sun. That is how I
wanted our flight to be.
Albatrosses fly over the sea, intoxicated by salt and iodine. They are like
unfettered waves playing in the air, but they do not lose touch with the other
waves.
Storks make long journeys; they cast shadows over the Earth's face. But like
albatrosses, they fly horizontally, resting in the hills.
Only the lark leaps out of ruts like a live dart, and rises, swallowed by the
heavens. Then the sky feels as though the Earth itself has risen. Heavy jungles
below do not answer the lark. Mountains crucified over the flatlands do not
answer.
But a winged arrow quickly shoots ahead, and it sings between the sun and the
Earth. One does not know if the bird has come down from the sun or risen from
the Earth. It exists between the two, like a flame. When it has serenaded the
skies with its abundance, the exhausted lark lands in the wheatfield.
You, Francis, wanted us to achieve that vertical flight, without a zigzag, in
order to arrive at that haven where we could rest in the light.
You wanted the morning air filled with arrows, with a multitude of carefree
larks. Francis, with each morning song, you imagined that a net of golden larks
floated between the Earth and the sky.
We are burdened, Francis. We cherish our lukewarm rut: our habits. We exalt
ourselves in glory just as the towering grass aspires. The loftiest blade does
not reach beyond the high pines.
Only when we die do we achieve that vertical flight! Never again, held back by
earthly ruts, will our bodies inhibit our souls.
Gabriela
Mistral (7 april 1889 10 januari 1957)
De Argentijnse schrijjfster Victoria Ocampo
werd geboren op 7 april 1890 in Buenos Aires. Zie ook alle tags voor
Victoria Ocampo op dit blog.
Uit: This America of Ours. The Letters of Gabriela Mistral and Victoria
Ocampo (Introductie door Elizabeth Horan and Doris Meyer)
Ocampo's preference for French in her
earlier writings was consistent with her background and education, as was also
the case with other literary figures of her generation, such as her close
friend Ricardo Güiraldes (author of the definitive gaucho novel Don Segundo Sombra). She did not
begin to use Spanish as a literary language until the 1930s, in response to
both the urgings of friends such as Mistral and Waldo Frank and her own
dissatisfaction with translations others did of her work.
Ocampo's preferred genre was the personal
essay, or testimonio, which
eventually resulted in more than ten volumes of collected writings. Unlike
Mistral, poetry was not Ocampo's medium, although the first letter in this
volume shares with Mistral a long and very subjective poem that was published
under a pseudonym years later. Ocampo's profound poetic nature, however, is
repeatedly expressed in her prose essays through a kind of "imaginative
understanding" based on intuition, not intellect. In fact, Ocampo's constant
concern as a writer is to find unity between the intellect and the spirit, and
to bridge cultural as well as geographic divides. For this objective, the
essay's malleability and its inherent resistance to boundaries of containment
made it the perfect genre for her wide-reaching interests.
Ocampo's true entry into the public sphere
followed in part from her work with Sur,
the literary magazine she founded in 1931, and, more broadly, from the death of
her parents, whose conservative sensibilities she had tried not to offend.
After 1935, Ocampo became emotionally and financially independent.
Victoria
Ocampo (7 april 1890 27 januari 1979)
Cover
De Amerikaanse schrijver Donald Barthelme werd geboren op 7 april 1931 in
Philadelphia. Zie ookalle tags voor
Donald Barthelme op dit blog.
Uit: Game
Considerations of rank and precedence were
temporarily put aside, a handsome concession on the part of Shotwell, who is a
captain, whereas I am only a first lieutenant. One of us watches the console at
all times rather than two of us watching the console at all times, except when
we are both on our feet. One of us watches the console at all times and if the
bird flies then that one wakes the other and we turn our keys in the locks
simultaneously and the bird flies. Our system involves a delay of perhaps
twelve seconds but I do not care because I am not well, and Shotwell does not
care because he is not himself. After the agreement was signed Shotwell
produced the jacks and the rubber ball from his attache case, and I began to
write a series of descriptions of forms occurring in nature, such as a shell, a
leaf, a stone, an animal. On the walls.
Shotwell plays jacks and I write descriptions
of natural forms on the walls. Shotwell is enrolled in a USAFI course which
leads to a master's degree in business administration from the University of
Wisconsin (although we are not in Wisconsin, we are in Utah, Montana or Idaho).
When we went down it was in either Utah, Montana or Idaho, I don't remember. We have been here for one
hundred thirty-three days owing to an oversight. The pale green reinforced
concrete walls sweat and the air conditioning zips on and off erratically and
Shotwell reads
Introduction to Marketing by Lassiter and
Munk, making notes with a blue ballpoint pen.
Donald
Barthelme (7 april 1931 23 juli 1989)
Zie voor
nog meer schrijvers van de 7e april ook mijn vorige blog van vandaag.
De
Oostenrijkse schrijver Johannes
Mario Simmel werd op 7 april
1924 in Wenen geboren. Zie ook alle tags
voor Johannes Mario Simmel op dit blog.
Uit: Liebe ist die letzte Brücke
"Ich kenne keinen Jacob Fenner."
"Er war sehr erregt. Sagte, er müsse dich unbedingt sprechen. Es klang
hysterisch. Gewiß ruft er wieder an."
"Gewiß", sagte Philip Sorel. Er stieg auf der gewaltigen Marmortreppe
in den ersten Stock hinauf und ging in eines von drei Badezimmern, in denen,
natürlich, weißer Marmor dominierte. Vergoldet leuchteten die Armaturen. Sorel
zog sich aus und trat unter die Dusche. Bis in das Bad klang die Cembalomusik.
Scarlatti, dachte er, während Wasser auf ihn herabzustürzen begann. Seit drei
Jahren Scarlatti.
Seit einundzwanzig Jahren war er mit Irene verheiratet, der älteren Schwester
Cats. Catherine, wie die Eltern sie getauft hatten, war seine erste Frau
gewesen, in allem und jedem das absolute Gegenteil Irenes: fröhlich,
warmherzig, leidenschaftlich. Ende 1974 war sie schwanger geworden. Sie lebten
in Hamburg. Mit übergroßer Freude erwarteten sie das Kind. Philip glaubte
damals, daß keine Frau mehr bei einer Geburt starb. Er irrte sich. Cat starb
bei der Geburt Kims am 5. September 1975.
Er war zu jener Zeit bereits Chef der Abteilung Softwarequalität bei Alpha und
plötzlich allein mit dem Säugling. Nur sehr schwer gelang es ihm, über Cats Tod
durch Arbeit, besonders viel Arbeit, hinwegzukommen. Aber wer sollte seinen
Sohn aufziehen, wer sich um ihn kümmern? Er konnte das nicht und wollte doch,
daß eine Frau mit aller Kraft und aller Zuneigung für Kim da war, für ihn, der
keine Mutter hatte. Sogleich nach Cats Tod übernahm Irene diese Aufgabe.
Johannes Mario Simmel (7 april 1924 1 januari 2009)
Zie voor nog meer
schrijvers van de 7e april ook mijn vorige
blog van vandaag.
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