Roddy Doyle, Gary Snyder

De Ierse schrijver Roddy Doyle werd geboren in Dublin op 8 mei 1958. Zie ook alle tags voor Roddy Doyle op dit blog.

Uit: Brilliant

“Gloria wished she had her own bed back. That was all she missed really. She had her duvet and her pink cover. But it wasn’t the same. `Rayzer?’ She said it a bit louder. Nearly proper talking. Maybe he was asleep. She kind of liked that, the fact that her big brother had fallen asleep before her. She tried again. `Rayzer?’ `What?’ `Are you not asleep?’ `That’s a stupid question.’ `I bet you were asleep,’ said Gloria. ‘And I woke you.’ `I wasn’t,’ said Raymond. `Bet you were,’ said Gloria. ‘Prove it.’ `Easy,’ said Raymond. ‘You said “Rayzer” four times.’ She heard him moving, turning in his bed. `Didn’t you?’ `Yeah,’ she said. ‘I think. Why didn’t you answer?’ `Didn’t want to.’ `I knew that,’ said Gloria. ‘I knew you were awake.’ `What d’you want?’ `Can you hear them?’ said Gloria. `Yeah.’ Gloria was talking about the grown-ups. Her mam, her dad, her granny and Uncle Ben. They were down in the kitchen. Raymond’s bedroom was right on top of them. `They’re mumbling again,’ Gloria whispered. `Yeah,’ said Raymond. The house was full of mumbles these days. Mumbles that often stopped whenever Raymond or Gloria walked into the room. Mumbling was what grown-ups did when they thought they were whispering. Whispers only stayed in the air for a little while but mumbles rolled around for ages, in the high corners, along the window frames, all around the house. The mumbles had almost become creatures. Gloria imagined she could see them. They were made of dust and hair, pushed into a ball, with skinny legs that barely touched the walls and ceilings as they slid along the paint and glass and wood. The mumbling had started when their Uncle Ben had come to live with them. Or just before he came. Gloria didn’t like the mumbles. They worried her. But she didn’t blame her Uncle Ben for them. Neither did Raymond. He didn’t like having to share his bedroom with Gloria, but he didn’t blame his Uncle Ben for that either. Gloria was a pain in the neck — and in other places too. But Raymond knew all little sisters were like that. It was one of the rules of life. And sometimes sharing the bedroom wasn’t too bad. Like now. Raymond had always been a bit afraid of the dark. Just a small bit.”


Roddy Doyle (Dublin, 8 mei 1958)


De Amerikaanse dichter Gary Snyder werd geboren op 8 mei 1930 in San Francisco. Zie ook alle tags voor Gary Snyder op dit blog.


Voor iedereen

Ah om te leven
op een ochtend half september
een stroom doorwadend
blootsvoets, met opgerolde broek,
laarzen vasthoudend, bundel,
zonneschijn, ijs in het ondiepe water,
noordelijke rockies.

Geritsel en glinstering van ijzige kreekwateren
stenen draaien onder de voeten, klein en hard als tenen,
koude neus druipend,
inwendig zingend
kreek muziek, hart muziek,
geur van zon op grind.

Ik beloof trouw

Ik beloof trouw aan de grond
van Turtle Island,
en aan de wezens die daarop wonen
één ecosysteem
in diversiteit
onder de zon
Met vreugdevolle interpenetratie voor iedereen.


Vertaald door Frans Roumen


Gary Snyder (San Francisco, 8 mei 1930)


Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 8e mei ook mijn blog van 8 mei 2019 en ook mijn blog van 8 mei 2018 en ook mijn blog van 8 mei 2016 deel 3.