Paul Bogaert, Juan Gelman, Soma Morgenstern, Nélida Piñon, Dodie Smith, Pierre Emmanuel, August von Kotzebue

De Vlaamse dichter en schrijver Paul Bogaert werd geboren in Brussel op 3 mei 1968. Bogaert studeerde Germaanse filologie aan de universiteiten van Brussel en Leuven. Hij publiceerde tot nu toe vier gedichtenbundels. Hij schreef ook het gedichtendagessay 2008 (Verwondingen) en geeft regelmatig lezingen, vooral in Vlaanderen en Nederland. Hij pleit voor online versies van de gesubsidieerde literatuur- en cultuurtijdschriften[1]. Zijn eerste twee dichtbundels staan integraal op zijn website. Zie ook mijn blog van 28 mei 2006.



Ik hoor dat je gestabiliseerd bent


– Ik hoor dat je gestabiliseerd bent.
Ik ben het, nee, dat neem je niet
in de mond,
te ruw, dat versta ik,
tegen de jeugd, is het dat
wat je wil, tegen de jeugd?
– Ik walg van de superette,
van de geur van de satan in cornflakes,
van het overal aangeborduurde…
– Zeg zulke dingen niet.
Het kunnen afscheidswoorden zijn.
Laat ook de grote doos beletseltekens dicht.
Je kunt je ogen rollen
naar de kabelstaart. Wil je
misschien wil je sukkelstraat sukkelstraat, ja, spuw het maar uit.
Wacht maar tot ik of tot wij – is dat hijgen normaal?
Je lijkt elk woord,
greeploos, kniediep,
te beamen.



Paul Bogaert (Brussel, 3 mei 1968)




De Argentijnse dichter Juan Gelman werd geboren op 3 mei 1930 in Buenos Aires. Zie ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2009.



lament for the death of parsifal hoolig (Fragment)


it began to rain cows

and in light of the prevailing situation in the country

the agronomy students sowed disorder

the engineering professors proclaimed their virginity

the philosophy janitors oiled the staples of intellectual reason

the math teachers verified crying the two plus two

the language learners invented good bad words


while this was happening

a wave of nostalgia invaded the country’s beds

and the couples look at each other as strangers

and twilight was served for lunch by mothers and fathers

and the pain or the hurt slowly dressed the little ones

and the chests fell off some and the backs off others and to the

rest nothing fell off at all

and they found God dead several times

and old men flew through the air holding tightly to their dried


and old women hurled exclamations and felt painful stitches

in their memory or oblivion

and various dogs approved and toasted with Armenian cognac

and they found a man dead several times


near a carnival Friday ripped from the carnival

under an invasion of autumnal insults

or over blue elephants standing on Mr. Hollow’s cheek

or close by the larks in sweet vocal challenge with summer

they found that man dead

with his hands openly gray

his hips disordered by the events in Chicago

remains of wind in his throat

25 cents in his pocket and its still eagle

with feathers wet from infernal rain




Vertaald door Katherine Hedeen en Víctor Rodríguez Núñez



Juan Gelman (Buenos Aires, 3 mei 1930)


De Duits-joodse schrijver Soma Morgenstern (eig. Salomo) werd geboren op 3 mei 1890 in Budzanów in Oostgalicië. Zie ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2007 en ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2008 en ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2009.


Uit: The Third Pillar


During that night we heard the tumult of battle. And when at the very break of day we ventured out into the street we saw the victors of those nocturnal skirmishes crowd into the city. There were the Germans in their grayish-green uniforms and on their sleeves were the hooked crosses, the swift pockmarks of the German pestilence.

“On that day of their rapid victory they did us almost no harm. Perhaps it was that these soldiers were no murderers; perhaps it was that they wanted to give no time to murder. The bloody deeds of this day and of those that followed were committed by our fellow citizens, our neighbors. Ah, it is an ancient sorrow that in the days of their history, whether fortunate or wretched, it was always they, our neighbors, who were prone to vent their spleen on us. That is an old story, a European and Christian refrain.

“And yet, contemptible as they were, what were the deeds of violence of our neighbors compared to the ill deeds of the German murderers as they now set in? Those were raging flames; these were all-consuming forest fires. Those neighbors devoured hundreds of us, but millions were spared. These other devoured millions and only hundreds were saved.

“I, the narrating judge, mournfully name the deeds of violence of our neighbors, inspired more by the lust of gain than by the lust of blood, in order to commemorate those victims too, may their names be sanctified. Concerning the misdeeds of the German murderers the accusing judge will bear witness, and he will do so according to the measure of blood guiltiness, primarily of the blood guiltiness incurred upon the bodies and lives of our children: from the newborn to those thirteen; that is to say, children according to our Law.

“May the accusing judge be upheld before this court by the merits of our fathers and the memory of our martyrs who fell for the Sanctification of the Name. And may strength be granted him to speak of what is unspeakable, that is, to bear witness according to the needs of this court, not to delineate, for that would be contrary to our Law. For only he could succeed in describing these bloody deeds and delineate them who was in a measure allied to the monsters who committed them. Only such a one would be willing and capable of rehearsing these deeds in word or writing or image.“



Soma Morgenstern (3 mei 1890 – 17 april 1976)




De Braziliaanse schrijfster Nélida Piñon werd geboren op 3 mei 1937 in Rio de Janeiro als dochter van Spaanse immigranten. Zie ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2009.


Uit: Voices of the Desert (Vertaald door Clifford Landers)


„Scheherazade has no fear of death. She does not believe that worldly power as represented by the Caliph, whom her father serves, decrees by her death the extinguishing of her imagination.

She tried to persuade her father that she alone can break the chain of deaths of maidens in the kingdom. She cannot bear seeing the triumph of evil that marks the Caliph’s face. She will oppose the misfortune that invades the homes of Baghdad and its environs, by offering herself to the ruler in a seditious sacrifice.

Her father objected when he heard his daughter’s proposal calling upon her to reconsider but failing to change her mind. He insisted again, this time smiting the purity of the Arabic language, employing imprecations, spurious, bastardized, scatological words used by the Bedouins in wrath and frolic alike. Shamelessly he marshaled every resource to persuade her. After all, his daughter owed him not only her life but also the luxury, the nobility, her rarefied education. (…)

Despite the Vizier’s protests when faced with the threat of losing his beloved daughter, Scheherazade persisted in this decision, which really involved her entire family. Each member of the Vizier’s clan evaluated in silence the significance of the decreed punishment, the effects that her death would have on their lives.“


Nélida Piñon (Rio de Janeiro, 3 mei 1937)




De Engelse schrijfster Dodie Smith werd geboren op 3 mei 1896 in Whitefield. Zie ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2009.


Uit: The Hundred and One Dalmatians


Not long ago, there lived in London a young married couple of Dalmatian dogs named Pongo and Missis Pongo. (Missis had added Pongo’s name to her own on their marriage, but was still called Missis by most people.) They were lucky enough to own a young married couple of humans named Mr. and Mrs. Dearly, who were gentle, obedient, and unusually intelligent-almost canine at times. They understood quite a number of barks: the barks for “Out, please!” “In, please!” “Hurry up with my dinner!” and “What about a walk?” And even when they could not understand, they could often guess-if looked at soulfully or scratched by an eager paw. Like many other much-loved humans, they believed that they owned their dogs, instead of realizing that dogs owned them. Pongo and Missis found this touching and amusing and let their pets think it was true. Mr. Dearly, who had an office in the City, was particularly good at arithmetic. Many people called him a wizard of finance-which is not the same thing as a wizard of magic, though sometimes fairly similar. At the time when this story starts he was rather unusually rich for a rather unusual reason. He had done the Government a great service (something to do with getting rid of the national debt) and, as a reward, had been let off his income tax for life. Also the Government had lent him a small house on the Outer Circle of Regent’s Park-just the right house for a man with a wife and dogs. Before their marriages, Mr. Dearly and Pongo had lived in a bachelor flat, where they were looked after by Mr. Dearly’s old nurse, Nanny Butler. Mrs. Dearly and Missis had also lived in a bachelor flat (there are no such things as spinster flats), where they were looked after by Mrs. Dearly’s old nurse, Nanny Cook. The dogs and their pets met at the same time and shared a wonderfully happy double engagement, but they were all a little worried about what was to happen to Nanny Cook and Nanny Butler. It would be all right when the Dearlys started a family, particularly if it could be twins, with one twin for each Nanny, but until then, what were the Nannies going to do?“


Dodie Smith (3 mei 1896 – 24 november 1990)




De Franse dichter en schrijver Pierre Emmanuel (eig. Noël Mathieu) werd geboren op 3 mei 1916 in Gan (Pyrénées-Atlantiques). Zie ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2007 en ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2008 en ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2009.


Uit: La Vie Terrestre


« Dans le stupéfiant Jacob de Delacroix que l’on peut voir à Saint-Sulpice, écrit Pierre Emmanuel dans La vie terrestre en 1976, Jacob se rue sur l’Ange qu’il semble s’ouvrir en lui tenant le bras gauche écarté, et l’Ange fléchit sous le poids formidable de cet homme-peuple, de cet homme-humanité. (…) L’Ange reçoit Jacob comme une femme reçoit l’homme : bien qu’il s’arc-boute sur la pointe du pied, il se donne davantage qu’il ne résiste. L’Ange – Dieu ? -, être éternellement jeune, étrangement féminin, danse tandis que l’homme se jette en avant pour le forcer, le pénétrer, passer outre.

Ce Combat avec l’Ange fut pour moi le symbole libérateur qui me tira de l’ambiguïté esthétique. Du fait de la personnalité de Jacob, la plus ambiguë peut-être de l’Écriture, il m’était possible d’assumer la mienne sans voir en elle un obstacle coupable à l’unité : le Combat avec l’Ange, ce sont aussi les noces avec Dieu (…). Voir le tableau me fut une illumination : quelques jours plus tard, je relus l’histoire de Jacob dans la Genèse, et je fus, comme devant l’Orphée ou le Christ de ma jeunesse, empli d’un besoin à demi conscient d’identification. »


Pierre Emmanuel (3 mei 1916 – 24 september 1984)




De Duitse dichter en toneelschrijver August Friedrich Ferdinand von Kotzebue werd in Weimar geboren op 3 mei 1761. Zie ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2007 en ook mijn blog van 3 mei 2009.




Es kann ja nicht immer so bleiben
Hier unter dem wechselnden Mond;
Es blüht eine Zeit und verwelket,
Was mit uns die Erde bewohnt.


Es haben viel fröhliche Menschen
Lang vor uns gelebt und gelacht;
Den Ruhenden unter dem Rasen
Sei fröhlich dies Gläschen gebracht!


Es werden viel fröhliche Menschen
Lang nach uns des Lebens sich freun,
Uns Ruhenden unter dem Rasen
Den Becher der Fröhlichkeit weihn.


Wir sitzen so traulich beisammen
Wir haben einander so lieb,
Erheitern einander das Leben;
Ach, wenn es doch immer so blieb’!


Doch weil es nicht immer so bleibet,
So haltet die Freunde recht fest;
Wer weiß denn, wie bald uns zerstreuet
Das Schicksal nach Ost und nach West!


Und sind wir auch fern von einander,
So bleiben die Herzen doch nah!
Und Alle, ja Alle wird’s freuen,
Wenn Einem was Gutes geschah.


Und kommen wir wieder zusammen,
Auf weise verhüllter Bahn,
So knüpfen ans fröhliche Ende
Den fröhlichen Anfang wir an!


August von Kotzebue (3 mei 1761 – 23 maart 1819)