Loss of Good Name
Fram’d in the front of forlorn hope past all recovery,
I stayless stand, to abide the shock of shame and infamy.
My life, through ling’ring long, is lodg’d in lair of loathsome ways;
My death delay’d to keep from life the harm of hapless days.
My sprites, my heart, my wit and force, in deep distress are drown’d;
The only loss of my good name is of these griefs the ground.
And since my mind, my wit, my head, my voice and tongue are weak,
To utter, move, devise, conceive, sound forth, declare and speak,
Such piercing plaints as answer might, or would my woeful case,
Help crave I must, and crave I will, with tears upon my face,
Of all that may in heaven or hell, in earth or air be found,
To wail with me this loss of mine, as of these griefs the ground.
Help Gods, help saints, help sprites and powers that in the heaven do dwell,
Help ye that are aye wont to wail, ye howling hounds of hell;
Help man, help beasts, help birds and worms, that on the earth do toil;
Help fish, help fowl, that flock and feed upon the salt sea soil,
Help echo that in air doth flee, shrill voices to resound,
To wail this loss of my good name, as of these griefs the ground.
Edward de Vere (12 april 1550 – 24 juni 1604)
Oh, who knows, the Caribbean,
as sea birds,
with wings of the storm
night crossed the seas,
and on the beaches of Borinquen
moved his deceptive hosts
shrewd as snakes,
as cowardly vultures,
if you moan hours in prison
far from your homes,
and if you pronounce my name
sad amid woes!
If so … the beaches,
the mountains and valleys
sounded in war
snails and timpani;
and if canoes had not
or winds me missing,
in front of my loafers
swim cross the seas,
falling on that tribe
and bathing in their blood,
as falls guaraguao
on pigeon coward.
Well, give strength to my arm
and fortune in the fight
the name of the Cacica
of tropical forests,
that of the black mane
the very large eye.
José Gautier Benítez (12 april 1848 – 24 januari 1880)
Uit:The Storm (Vertaald door Constance Garnett)
„KULIGIN, BORIS, KUDRIASH, and SHAPKIN.
KULIGIN. What have you to do with him, sir? We can’t make it out. What can induce you to live with him and put up with his abuse?
BORIS. A poor inducement, Kuligin! I’m not free.
KULIGIN. But how are you not free, allow me to ask you. If you can tell us, sir, do.
BORIS. Why not? You knew our grandmother, Anfisa Mihalovna?
KULIGIN. To be sure I did!
KUDRIASH. I should think we did!
BORIS. She quarrelled with my father you know because he married into a noble family. It was owing to that that my father and mother lived in Moscow. My mother used to tell me that she could hardly endure life for three days together with my father’s relations, it all seemed so rough and coarse to her.
KULIGIN. Well it might! you have to be used to it from the first, sir, to be able to bear it.
BORIS. Our parents brought us up well in Moscow, they spared no expense. They sent me to the Commercial Academy, and my sister to a boarding school, but they both died suddenly of cholera. We were left orphans, my sister and I. Then we heard that our grandmother was dead here, and had left a will that our uncle was to pay us a fair share of her fortune, when we came of age, only upon one condition.
KULIGIN. And what was that, sir?
BORIS. If we showed a proper respect for his authority.”
Alexander Ostrovski (12 april 1823 – 14 juni 1886)
Cover van The Storm
Uit: The French Revolution and Human Rights: A Brief Documentary History (Vertaald door Lynn Hunter)
“Behold that proprietor of a vessel, who leaning upon his desk, and with the pen in his hand, regulates the number of enormities he may cause to be committed on the Coasts of Guinea; who considers at leisure, what number of firelocks [guns] he shall want to obtain one Negro, what fetters will be necessary to keep him chained on board his ship, what whips will be required to make him work; who calculates with coolness, every drop of blood which the slave must necessarily expend in labor for him, and how much it will produce; who considers whether a Negro woman will be of more advantage to him by her feeble labours, or by going through the dangers of child-birth.”
Guillaume-Thomas Raynal (12 april 1713 – 6 maart 1796)
Borstbeeld in Saint-Geniez-d’Olt