De Duitse dichter en schrijver Sascha Anderson werd geboren op 24 augustus 1953 in Weimar. Zie ook mijn blog van 24 augustus 2010.
Uit: Jeder Satellit hat einen Killersatelliten
2
So wurde von keiner Berührung gestörtes in zweierlei Hinsicht
Eins und das Selbe Betrachtend das Kind (die Ältern)
mit griechischem Auge Was bleibt ihm denn praktisch übrig
Das Haus ist zwar Turm und Echo kaum einer Hand voll Erde
“Deutschland aber wo liegt es” Dort auf dem Berg den sie gruben
In diese taubstumme Form des Himmels an Ilm oder Pegnitz
HELL, HELLER
fix und fertig und der zins, von der geschichte in einen
aaaaagranatapfel
verwandelt. okay, war nichts, höchstens die wiederletzte
aaaaalektion für
einen notorischen selbststeller. mit dem revolutionskalender,
aaaaamit
den 30 tagen pro monat, dem wissen vom unteilbaren rest
aaaaaund dem
großen löffel geht es, alles in allem, noch schneller. chaos halb
göttliches: im anfang war wohl doch vernunft, sonst wär jetzt auch
kein bild am grund des tellers.
Sascha Anderson (Weimar, 24 augustus 1953)
De Britse dichter en musicus Linton Kwesi Johnson werd geboren in Chapelton (Jamaica) op 24 augustus 1952.Zie ook mijn blog van 24 augustus 2010.
Mekkin Histri
now tell mi someting
mistah govahment
tell mi someting
how lang yu really feel
yu coulda keep wi andah heel
wen di trute done reveal
bout how yu grab an steal
bout how yu mek yu crooked deal
mek yu crooked deal?
well doun in Soutall
where Peach did get fall
di Asians dem faam-up a human wall
gense di fashist an dem police sheil
an dem show dat di Asians gat plenty zeal
gat plenty zeal
gat plenty zeal
it is noh mistri
wi mekkin histri
it is noh mistri
wi winnin victri
now tell mi someting
mistah police spokesman
tell mi someting
how lang yu really tink
wi woulda tek yu batn lick
yu jackboot kick
yu dutty bag a tricks
an yu racist pallyticks
yu racist pallyticks?
well doun in Bristal
dey ad noh pistal
but dem chase di babylan away
man yu shoulda si yu babylan
how dem really run away
yu shoulda si yu babylan dem dig-up dat dey
dig-up dat dey
dig-up dat dey
it is noh mistri
wi mekkin histri
it is noh mistri
wi winnin victri
now tell mi someting
mistah ritewing man
tell mi someting
how lang yu really feel
wi woulda grovel an squeal
wen soh much murdah canceal
wen wi woun cyaan heal
wen wi feel di way wi feel
feel di way wi feel?
well dere woz Toxteh
an dere woz Moss Side
an a lat a addah places
whey di police ad to hide
well dere woz Brixtan
an dere woz Chapeltoun
an a lat a addah place dat woz burnt to di groun
burnt to di groun
burnt to di groun
it is noh mistri
wi mekkin histri
it is noh mistri
wi winnin victri
Linton Kwesi Johnson (Chapelton, 24 augustus 1952)
De Engelse schrijfster A. S. Byatt werd geboren als Antonia Susan Drabble op 24 augustus 1936 in Sheffield. Zie ook mijn blog van 24 augustus 2010.
Uit: The Children’s Book
“Two boys stood in the Prince Consort Gallery, and looked down on a third. It was June 19th, 1895. The Prince had died in 1861, and had seen only the beginnings of his ambitious project for a gathering of museums in which the British craftsmen could study the best examples of design. His portrait, modest and medalled,was done inmosaic in the tympanum of a decorative arch at one end of the narrowgallery which ran above the space of the South Court. The South Court was decorated with further mosaics, portraits of painters, sculptors, potters, the “Kensington Valhalla.” The third boy was squatting beside one of a series of imposing glass cases displaying gold and silver treasures. Tom, the younger of the two looking down, thought of Snow White in her glass coffin. He thought also, looking up at Albert, that the vessels and spoons and caskets, gleaming in the liquid light under the glass, were like a resurrected kingly burial hoard. (Which, indeed, some of them were.) They could not see the other boy clearly, because he was on the far side of a case. He appeared to be sketching its contents.
Julian Cain was at home in the South Kensington Museum. His father, Major Prosper Cain, was Special Keeper of Precious Metals.
Julian was just fifteen, and a boarder at Marlowe School, but was home recovering from a nasty bout of jaundice. He was neither tall nor short, slightly built, with a sharp face and a sallow complexion, even without the jaundice. He wore his straight black hair parted in the centre, and was dressed in a school suit. Tom Wellwood, boyish in Norfolk jacket and breeches, was about two years younger, and looked younger than he was, with large dark eyes, a soft mouth and a smooth head of dark gold hair. The two had not met before. Tom’s mother was visiting Julian’s father, to ask for help with her research. She was a successful authoress of magical tales. Julian had been deputed to show Tom the treasures. He appeared to be more interested in showing him the squatting boy.”
A. S.Byatt (Sheffield, 24 augustus 1936)