The Throstler (Alfred Tennyson)

Dolce far niente

 

Poppies And Daisies door Anthonore Christensen, 1903

 

The Throstler

“Summer is coming, summer is coming,
I know it, I know it, I know it.
Light again, leaf again, love again.”
Yes, my wild little Poet.

Sing the new year in under the blue.
Last year you sang it as gladly.
“New, new, new, new!” Is it then _so_ new
That you should carol so madly?

“Love again, song again, nest again, young again.”
Never a prophet so crazy!
And hardly a daisy as yet, little friend,
See, there is hardly a daisy.

“Here again, here, here, here, happy year!”
O warble, unchidden, unbidden!
Summer is coming, is coming, my dear,
And all the winters are hidden.

Alfred Tennyson (6 augustus 1809 – 6 oktober 1892) 
De pastorie in Somersby. Tennyson werd geboren in Somersby

 

Zie voor de schrijvers van de 28e mei ook mijn twee vorige blogs van vandaag.

Ad Zuiderent, Leo Pleysier, Adriaan Bontebal, Guntram Vesper, Frank Schätzing

De Nederlandse dichter en criticus Ad Zuiderent werd geboren in ’s-Gravendeel op 28 mei 1944. Zie ook alle tags voor Ad Zuiderent op dit blog.

Huis van liefde

Het huisnummer verlicht, waar liefde woont
(je zag aan de gordijnen dat dat zo was,
aan de kleur van een raam, donker hardsteen,
was de geveltuin vochtig, dan wist je genoeg)
waar liefde woont, een doordeweekse dag
achter een dichte deur, je belde aan,
een leven als een oordeel, daar kleef
je graag aan het vergankelijke leven.
Waar op de dorpel een doorweekte man
op iets te wachten staat dat binnen is
en zingt waar liefde woont gebiedt,
waar hij ook woont, daar stopt het lied.
Ging de deur open, stroomde de liefde
over de dorpel. Of je stelpen kon.

 

Dorp in Zuid-Holland

Elk woord gezegd hier was al veel.
In doods gemompel: torentijd,
de namen van de wielerkoers
of ‘hoi’ tegen een leuke meid.

’s Zaterdagsavonds tentmuziek.
Dan sloot het dorp de wereld af.
Fietsers verstarden tot publiek.
Dichter und Bauer, waarom niet.

Straat langs het water. Kritisch punt.
Wat kwam na de muziek tot stand?
Kijk zonder handen op de fiets,
en brommend met een buddyseat

de Kreek rond, over Kaai en Heul,
een hels kabaal het halve dorp –
maar iemand die ook vleugels kreeg,
die kwam niet ver. Die drijft er nog.

 
Ad Zuiderent (’s-Gravendeel, 28 mei 1944)

Lees verder “Ad Zuiderent, Leo Pleysier, Adriaan Bontebal, Guntram Vesper, Frank Schätzing”

Maeve Binchy, Sjoerd Leiker, Vladislav Chodasevitsj, Thomas Moore, Ian Fleming, Maximilian Voloshin, Bernhard Severin Ingemann

De Ierse schrijfster en columniste Maeve Binchy werd geboren op 28 mei 1940 in Dalkey. Zie ook alle tags voor Maeve Binchy op dit blog.

Uit: Quentins

“Brenda and her friend Nora had been inseparable during catering college. They made plans for life, which varied a bit depending on what was happening. Sometimes they thought they would go to Paris together and learn from a French chef. Then they might set up a thirty-bedroom hotel in the countryside, which would have a waiting list of six months for people trying to come and stay.
In reality, of course, it was slightly different. Shifts here and there and a lot of waitressing. Too many people after the same jobs, plenty of young men and women with experience. Nora and Brenda found it hard going at the start.
So they went to London, where two things of great significance happened. Nora met an Italian man called Mario who said he loved her more than he loved life itself. And Nora certainly loved him as much, if not more.
Brenda at the time caught a heavy cold, which turned into pneumonia, and as a result lost her hearing for a time. She regarded this deafness as a terrible blow. She, who could almost hear the grass grow before her illness.
“I was never sympathetic enough to deaf people,” she wept to the busy doctor who gave her leaflets on lip-reading classes and told her to stop this self-pity, her hearing would return in time.
So Brenda went to the classes, mainly much older people, men and women struggling with hearing aids.
She learned how to practice on a VCR machine. You watched the news with the volume turned down over and over until you could guess what they were saying, and then you turned it up very high to check if you were right.
Miss Hill, the teacher, loved Brenda, as she was so eager to learn. Brenda learned tostudy people’s faces as they spoke, trying to make sense of what she couldn’t hear. Brenda understood that the hard letters to hear were the ones in the middle of a word. Most people could read the word “pay” or “pan,” for example, but it was much harder to see a hidden consonant like an L or an R in the middle of a word. “Pray” or “plan” were much more difficult to work out. You had to do that from the meaning of the sentence.”

 
Maeve Binchy (28 mei 1940 – 30 juli 2012)

Lees verder “Maeve Binchy, Sjoerd Leiker, Vladislav Chodasevitsj, Thomas Moore, Ian Fleming, Maximilian Voloshin, Bernhard Severin Ingemann”