De Engelse dichter en schrijver Roger Joseph McGough werd geboren op 9 november 1937 in Litherland, Lancashire. Zie ook alle tags voorRoger McGough op dit blog enook mijn blog van 9 november 2010
The Lesson
Chaos ruled OK in the classroom
as bravely the teacher walked in
the nooligans ignored him
hid voice was lost in the din
“The theme for today is violence
and homework will be set
I’m going to teach you a lesson
one that you’ll never forget”
He picked on a boy who was shouting
and throttled him then and there
then garrotted the girl behind him
(the one with grotty hair)
Then sword in hand he hacked his way
between the chattering rows
“First come, first severed” he declared
“fingers, feet or toes”
He threw the sword at a latecomer
it struck with deadly aim
then pulling out a shotgun
he continued with his game
The first blast cleared the backrow
(where those who skive hang out)
they collapsed like rubber dinghies
when the plug’s pulled out
“Please may I leave the room sir?”
a trembling vandal enquired
“Of course you may” said teacher
put the gun to his temple and fired
The Head popped a head round the doorway
to see why a din was being made
nodded understandingly
then tossed in a grenade
And when the ammo was well spent
with blood on every chair
Silence shuffled forward
with its hands up in the air
The teacher surveyed the carnage
the dying and the dead
He waggled a finger severely
“Now let that be a lesson” he said
Roger McGough (Litherland, 9 november 1937)
De Indische dichter en schrijver Mohammed Iqbal werd geboren op 9 november 1877 in Sialkot in het tegenwoordige Pakistan. Zie ook alle tags voorMohammed Iqbal op dit blog enook mijn blog van 9 november 2010
Pathos Of Love
O Pathos of Love! You are a glossy pearl
Beware, you should not appear among strangers
The theatre of your display is concealed under the veil
The modern audience’ eye accepts only the visible display
New breeze has arrived in the Existence’ garden
O Pathos of Love! Now there is no pleasure in display
Beware! You should not be striving for ostentation!
You should not be obligated to the nightingale’s lament!
The tulip’s wine‐cup should be devoid of wine
The dew’s tear should be a mere dropp of water
Your secret should be hidden in the bosom somewhere
Your heart‐melting tear should not be your betrayer
The flowery‐styled poet’s tongue should not be talking
Separation’s complaint should not be concealed in flute’s music
This age is a critic, go and somewhere conceal yourself
In the heart in which you are residing conceal yourself
The learning’s surprise is neglecting you, beware!
Your immature eye is not the seeker of Truth, beware
Let the elegant thought remain in search of Truth
Let your wisdom‐loving eye remain in astonishment
This is not the garden whose spring you may be
This is not the audience worthy of your appearance
This audience is the lover of the material sights
The purpose of your sight is the closet of secrecy
Every heart is intoxicated with the wine of thinking
Something different is the Tur of the Kalims of this age
Mohammed Iqbal (9 november 1877 – 21 april 1938)
De Duitse dichteres en schrijfster Karin Kiwus werd geboren op 9 november 1942 in Berlijn. Zie ook alle tags voorKarin Kiwus op dit blog en ook mijn blog van 9 november 2010
Lösung
Im Traum
nicht einmal mehr
suche ich
mein verlorenes Paradies
bei dir
ich erfinde es
besser allein
für mich
In Wirklichkeit
will ich
einfach nur leben
mit dir so gut
es geht
So oder so
Schön
geduldig
miteinander
langsam alt
und verrückt werden
andrerseits
allein
geht es natürlich
viel schneller
Karin Kiwus (Berlijn, 9 november 1942)
De joods-Hongaarse schrijver Imre Kertész werd geboren op 9 november 1929 in Boedapest. Zie ook alle tags voorImre Kertész op dit blog en ook mijn blog van 9 november 2010
Uit: Liquidation
“You just sit there and tolerate it, the same way everything in this country is tolerated. Every deception, every lie, every bullet in the brains. Just as you are already tolerating bullets in the brains that will be implemented only after the bullet is put in your brains.”
(…)
“Kingbitter, as he did frequently nowadays, was standing at his window and looking out onto the street below. This street offered the most mundane and ordinary sights of Budapest’s mundane and ordinary streets. The muck-, oil-, and dog-dirt-spattered sidewalk was lined with parked cars, and in the one-yard gaps between the cars and the leprotically peeling house walls the most mundane and ordinary passersby were attempting to go about their business, their hostile features an outward clue to their dark thoughts. Every now and then, perhaps in a hurry to overtake the single file inching along the front, one of them would step off the sidewalk, only for an entire chorus of rancorous car horns to give the lie to any groundless hope of breaking free from the line.”
(…)
“Man, when reduced to nothing, or in other words a survivor, is not tragic but comic, because he has no fate.”
Imre Kertész (Boedapest, 9 november 1929)
De Belgische humorist, cabaretier en schrijver Raymond Devos werd geboren in Moeskroen op 9 november 1922. Zie ook alle tags voorRaymond Devos op dit blog enook mijn blog van 9 november 2010.
Sévère mais juste
Hier soir, je rentre chez moi… Qu’est-ce que j’apprends ?
J’apprends que le chat avait mangé la pâtée du chien…
Ah, mon vieux ! J’ai mis le chat dehors.
Là-dessus, qu’est-ce que j’apprends ?
J’apprends que le chien avait mangé la côtelette de ma femme…
Ah, mon vieux ! J’ai mis le chien dehors.
Là-dessus, qu’est-ce que j’apprends ?
Que ma femme avait mangé mon beefsteack.
Ah, mon vieux !… J’ai mis ma femme dehors.
Là-dessus, qu’est-ce que je découvre ?
Que le lait que j’avais bu le matin était celui du chat.
Ah, mon vieux !… J’ai fait rentrer tout le monde…
Et je suis sorti.
Sévère… mais juste.
Le parcmètre
Les parcmètres, c’est une tricherie.
Vous savez que ça rapporte une fortune aux pouvoir publics.
Une fortune.
Je le sais parce que mon voisin s’est fait installer un petit parcmètre clandestin devant chez lui.
Tous les soirs, il va retirer la recette.
Il vit bien.
Il s’est même acheté une voiture.
Évidemment, il l’a mise devant son parcmètre.
Depuis, il ne fait plus un rond.
Mais ça, c’est de sa faute.
Raymond Devos (9 november 1922 – 15 juni 2006)
De Amerikaanse schrijver, astronoom en populariseerder van de wetenschap Carl Edward Sagan werd geboren in New York op 9 november 1934. Zie ook alle tags voorCarl Sagan op dit blog enook mijn blog van 9 november 2010.
Uit: Cosmos
“The size and age of the Cosmos are beyond ordinary human understanding. Lost somewhere between immensity and eternity is our tiny planetary home. In a cosmic perspective, most human concerns seem insignificant, even petty. And yet our species is young and curious and brave and shows much promise. In the last few millennia we have made the most astonishing and unexpected discoveries about the Cosmos and our place within it, explorations that are exhilarating to consider. They remind us that humans have evolved to wonder, that understanding is a joy, that knowledge is prerequisite to survival. I believe our future depends on how well we know this Cosmos in which we float like a mote of dust in the morning sky.”
(…)
“The Cosmos is all that is or was or ever will be. Our feeblest contemplations of the Cosmos stir us — there is a tingling in the spine, a catch in the voice, a faint sensation, as if a distant memory, of falling from a height. We know we are approaching the greatest of mysteries.”
Carl Sagan (9 november 1934 – 20 december 1996)