De Deense schrijver Herman Bang werd geboren op 20 april 1857 in Asserballe. Zie ook alle tags voor Herman Bang op dit blog.
Uit: Katinka (Vertaald door Tiina Nunnally)
“She stepped out of the train car, down onto the platform, and she allowed herself to be kissed by Bai, and Marie took her things, and she had only one thought: to get inside the house – inside.
It seemed to her that Huus had to be inside, waiting.
And she went on ahead and opened the door to the parlor whicb was waiting, clean and nice; to the bedroom; to the kitchen where everything shone; clean and – empty.
“My God, how thin the mistress has become,” began Marie, who was lugging the bags.
And then she really got started, while Katinka, pale and tired, collapsed into a chair – about the whole area. About what had been happening and what was being said. Over at the inn thev had had summer guests who came with bedsteads and everything, and at the parsonage there were visitors right up to the rafters.
And Huus, who had left … all of a sudden…
“Well, I thought so … Because he was down here on that last evening and it seemed to me just like he was going around saying goodbye to everything – he sat in the parlor alone – and out in the garden … and out here on the steps with the doves.”
“When did he leave?” asked Katinka.
“It must be about two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks …
Katinka carmly got up and went out into the garden. She walked along the pathway, over to the roses, down to the elder tree. He had been here to say goodbye to her – at every spot, in every place. She had no tears. She felt almost a quiet solemnity.
There was a happy shout out on the road. She heard Agnes’s voice in the midst of a great chorus. She practically jumped up. She didn’t want to see them there just now, Agnes rushed at her like a big dog to welcome her, so that she almost fell over; and the entire party from the parsonage came in for hot chocolate, and a table was set in the garden beneath the elder, and they all stayed untill the 8 o’clock train.
The train reared off, and they were gone again – you could hear them talking noisily along the road. Peter, the station hand, had taken the milk cans away, and Katinka was sitting alone on the platform.”
Herman Bang (20 april 1857 – 19 januari 1912)
De Amerikaanse dichter, schrijver, essayist en criticus Henry Theodore Tuckerman werd geboren op 20 april 1813 in Boston, Massachusetts. Zie ook alle tags voor Henry Tuckerman op dit blog.
Ode
Shroud the banner! rear the cross!
Consecrate a nation’s loss;
Gaze on that majestic sleep;
Stand beside the bier to weep;
Lay the gentle son of toil
Proudly in his native soil;
Crowned with honor, to his rest
Bear the prophet of the West.
How cold the brow that yet doth wear
The impress of a nation’s care;
How still the heart, whose every beat
Glowed with compassion’s sacred heat;
Rigid the lips, whose patient smile
Duty’s stern task would oft beguile;
Blood-quenched the pensive eye’s soft light;
Nerveless the hand so loth to smite;
So meek in rule, it leads, though dead,
The people as in life it led.
O let his wise and guileless sway
Win every recreant today,
And sorrow’s vast and holy wave
Blend all our hearts around his grave!
Let the faithful bondmen’s tears,
Let the traitor’s craven fears,
And the people’s grief and pride,
Plead against the parricide!
Let us throng to pledge and pray
O’er the patriot martyr’s clay;
Then, with solemn faith in right,
That made him victor in the fight,
Cling to the path he fearless trod,
Still radiant with the smile of God.
Shroud the banner! rear the cross!
Consecrate a nation’s loss;
Gaze on that majestic sleep;
Stand beside the bier to weep;
Lay the gentle son of toil
Proudly in his native soil;
Crowned with honor, to his rest
Bear the prophet of the West.
Henry Tuckerman (20 april 1813 – 17 december 1871)
Portret door Daniel Huntington
De Franse dichter Aloysius Bertrand werd geboren op 20 april 1807 in Ceva, Piemont, Italië. Zie ook alle tags voor Aloysius Bertrand op dit blog.
Le soir sur l’eau
La noire gondole se glissait le long des palais de marbre,
comme un bravo qui court à quelque aventure de nuit, un
stylet et une lanterne sous sa cape.
Un cavalier et une dame y causaient d’amour : – ” Les
orangers si parfumés, et vous si indifférente ! Ah !
signora, vous êtes une statue dans un jardin !
– Ce baiser est-il d’une statue, mon Georgio ? pourquoi
boudez-vous ? – Vous m’aimez donc ? – Il n’est pas au
ciel une étoile qui ne le sache et tu ne le sais pas ?
– Quel est ce bruit ? – Rien, sans doute le clapotement
des flots qui monte et descend une marche des escaliers
de la Giudecca.
– Au secours ! au secours ! – Ah ! mère du Sauveur, quel-
qu’un qui se noie ! – Écartez-vous ; il est confessé “,
dit un moine qui parut sur la terrasse.
Et la noire gondole força de rames, se glissant le long
des palais de marbre comme un bravo qui revient de quelque
aventure de nuit, un stylet et une lanterne sous sa cape.
Aloysius Bertrand (20 april 1807 – 29 april 1841)
Buste in Dijon
De Italiaanse schrijver Pietro Aretino werd geboren in Arezzo op 20 april 1492. Zie ook alle tags voor Pietro Aretino op dit blog.
Narcissus
Narcissus was a very silly boy:
He looked into a pool and fell in love
With his own image; I am not above
Narcissus’ folly, as my glances toy
With what my lips would like well to enjoy:
Before the lancers come, with thrust and shove
Of amorous war, I, like a billing dove,
Survey the scene of bellicose employ.
For this is what I live for, if you’d know —
Dearest, the mystery is solved at last;
I’ll whisper it, before I turn to dust.
Lie still and listen till your blood runs slow,
Till flowers are withered, ecstasy is past;
And then, too late! you’ll know the answer: Lust.
Vertaald door Samuel Putnam
Pietro Aretino (20 april 1492 – 21 oktober 1556)
De Engelse dichteres en schrijfster Dinah Maria Craik werd geboren op 20 april 1826 in Stoke-on-Trent. Zie ook alle tags voor Dinah Craik op dit blog.
A German Student’s Funeral Hymn
WITH steady march across the daisy meadow,
And by the churchyard wall we go;
But leave behind, beneath the linden shadow,
One, who no more will rise and go:
Farewell, our brother, here sleeping in dust,
Till thou shalt wake again, wake with the just.
Along the street where neighbor nods to neighbor,
Along the busy street we throng,
Once more to laugh, to live and love and labor,–
But he will be remembered long:
Sleep well, our brother, though sleeping in dust:
Shalt thou not rise again–rise with the just?
Farewell, true heart and kindly hand, left lying
Where wave the linden branches calm;
‘T is his to live, and ours to wait for dying,
We win, while he has won, the palm;
Farewell, our brother! But one day, we trust,
Call–he will answer Thee, God of the just.
Dinah Craik (20 april 1826 – 12 oktober 1887)