Kito Lorenc, J. Rabearivelo, Bernardo Ashetu, Jacques Dupin, Thomas S. Stribling

De Duits-sorbische dichter, schrijver en vertaler Kito Lorenc werd geboren op 4 maart 1938 in Schleife (Oost-Sachsen). Zie ook mijn blog van 4 maart 2007  en ook mijn blog van 4 maart 2009.




So langsam wirds Zeit

das Haus einzuzäunen

die Alarmanlage anzubringen

und den Hund auszubuddeln

da wo er begraben liegt


Zeit wirds wieder

die Zeit totzuschlagen

die Grenzen dichtzumachen

die Akten zu schließen

und den Muskel


Fangen wir gleich an mit

wo es am schnellsten klappt

es geht schon beim Autofahren

beim Ausfüllen der Steuererklärung

beim Fernsehn hinter der Zeitung


Und immer etwas steigern

die Leistung dann kommts auch

zum Wachstum also dies schon mal

üben: auf und zu und

so langsam machts Spaß



Kito Lorenc (Schleife, 4 maart 1938)


De Madagassische dichter en schrijver Jean-Joseph Rabearivelo werd geboren op 4 maart 1901 in Antananarivo. Zie ook mijn blog van 4 maart 2007  en ook mijn blog van 4 maart 2009.




A l’âge de Guérin,

A l’âge de Deubel,

Un peu plus vieux que toi,

Rimbaud anté-néant,

Parce que cette vie est pour nous trop rebelle

Et parce que l’abeille a tari tout pollen,

Ne plus rien disputer

et ne plus rien attendre,

Et, couché sur le sable ou la pierre,

Sous l’herbe, fixer un regard tendre

Sur tout ce qui deviendra quelques jours des gerbes.



Jean-Joseph Rabearivelo (4 maart 1901 – 22 juni 1937)


De Poolse journalist, schrijver en dichter Ryszard Kapuściński werd geboren in Pinsk, Polen (thans Wit-Rusland), op 4 maart 1932. Zie ook mijn blog van 4 maart 2009.


Uit: Persia Risen, Persia Fallen


„Why is Darius so compelling? Reading Herodotus on Eastern rulers, we can see that although all of them perform cruel deeds, there are occasionally those capable of more, and that this “more” can be something useful and even good. It was thus with Darius. On the one hand, he was a murderer. Here he is setting off with his army against the Scythians: “At this point a Persian called Oeobazus, all three of whose sons were in the army, asked Darius
whether one of them could be left behind. Darius replied in a friendly fashion, as if the request were reasonable, and said that he would leave all three behind. Oeobazus was overjoyed at the prospect of his sons being released from military service, but Darius ordered those responsible for such things to kill all three of them. So he did leave them there in Susa—with their throats cut.”

On the other hand, Darius was a good administrator, took care of the roads and the mail, minted money, and supported trade. And first and foremost, almost from the moment he donned the royal diadem, he began to erect a magnificent city, Persepolis, whose importance and luster put it on a par with Mecca and Jerusalem.

I am witness in Tehran to the last weeks of the shah’s regime. The gigantic, normally chaotic city scattered over a large swath of sandy terrain is now in a state of total disarray. Traffic is paralyzed by endless daily demonstrations. Men, invariably black-haired, and women, invariably in hijabs, walk in mile- and even multi-mile-long columns, chanting, shouting, rhythmically shaking their raised fists. Every now and then, armored trucks drive into the streets and squares and fire at the demonstrators. They fire for real, and as the dead and wounded fall, the panicked crowds disperse or hide in the entryways of buildings.“



Ryszard Kapuściński (4 maart 1932 – 23 januari 2007)



De Surinaamse dichter Bernardo Ashetu (Eig. Hendrik George van Ommeren) werd geboren in Kasabaholo op 4 maart 1929. Zie en ook mijn blog van 4 maart 2009.




Och, dat ik rijk ware

dat ik water had

en land

en wolken,

dat ik rijk ware

en de macht had

om zon en duister,

bloed en adem

te zetten naar mijn wil –

Och, dat ik rijk ware

en het beter had

alleen maar om lang te rusten

om lang en zoet en lang

te rusten een baleh – baleh

met klamboe van rode zijde.



Bernardo Ashetu (4 maart 1929  – 3 augustus 1982)


De Franse dichter Jacques Dupin werd geboren in Privas, Ardèche, op 4 maart 1927. Zie ook mijn blog van 4 maart 2009.




Cette boue séchera !

A la fêlure de la jarre, au tressaillement

de ma douleur dans sa gangue, je sais

que revient le vent.


Le vent qui se disperse et le vent qui

rassemble, l’inintelligible, le vivant !

Nous ne dormirons plus. Nous ne

cesserons plus de voir. De pourvoir le



Obscur horizon ! Seule brûle la tranche

d’un livre – quand je me détourne.



Jacques Dupin (Privas, 4 maart 1927)


De Amerikaanse schrijver Thomas S. Stribling werd geboren op 4 maart 1881 in Clifton, Tennessee. Zie ook mijn blog van 4 maart 2009.


Uit: Laughing Stock


„We entered the heavy, grimy building in this equivocal mood, and when we learned that the clerk was in, whether we were disappointed or appointed, neither of us knew.
The clerk of the court was a very businesslike fellow. He wrote out the license in no time and then said the ceremony. As he repeated words which evidently he had used many, many times, I was amazed at the brevity and simplicity of the wedding compared with the overwhelming influence it would have on our lives. If ours had been the first wedding, if custom had not proved over and over the permeating force of weddings, nobody in the world would have believed that the writing of a slip of paper, joining hands and repeating a word or two, would really have united two human beings for life. I wondered through how many millennia and through what endless quirks and changes the form and potency of the clerk’s simple ceremony had developed. And I realized that I was a far more nearly-civilized being than I had ever fancied myself. The clerk’s fee was two dollars, neither more nor less. It was like buying a sack of flour.“



Thomas S. Stribling (4 maart 1881 – 8 juli 1965)