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donderdag 22 maart 2012

This is my letter to the World - Emily Dickinson

This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to me -
The simple News that Nature told -
With tender Majesty

Her Message is commited
To Hands I cannot see -
For love of Her - Sweet - countrymen -
Judge tenderly - of Me.

vrijdag 16 maart 2012

Nog een dag

Nog een dag
met jou.
Ik wil nog een dag.

Nog een dag
je stralende ogen,
je lieve lach.

Nog een dag,
jij in mijn armen,
een zachte knuffel.

Nog een dag
je vrolijke stem
en ik luister.

Nog een dag
wij samen
weer gelukkig.

Dat is wat ik wil.
Nog een dag.
Nog een dag met jou.


woensdag 14 maart 2012

Pi - Wislawa Szymborska

The admirable number pi:
three point one four one.
All the following digits are also initial,
five nine two because it never ends.
It can't be comprehended six five three five at a glance,
eight nine by calculation,
seven nine or imagination,
not even three two three eight by wit, that is, by comparison
four six to anything else
two six four three in the world.
The longest snake on earth calls it quits at about forty feet.
Likewise, snakes of myth and legend, though they may hold out a
            bit longer.
The pageant of digits comprising the number pi
doesn't stop at the page's edge.
It goes on across the table, through the air,
over a wall, a leaf, a bird's nest, clouds, straight into the sky,
through all the bottomless, bloated heavens.
Oh how brief - a mouse tail, a pigtail - is the tail of a comet!
How feeble the star's ray, bent by bumping up against space!
While here we have two three fifteen three hundred nineteen
my phone number your shirt size the year
nineteen hundred and seventy-three the sixth floor
the number of inhabitants sixty-five cents
hip measurement two fingers a charade, a code,
in which we find hail to thee, blithe spirit, bird thou never wert
alongside ladies and gentlemen, no cause for alarm,
as well as heaven and earth shall pass away,
but not the number pi, oh no, nothing doing,
it keeps right on with its rather remarkable five,
its uncommonly fine eight,
its far from final seven,
nudging, always nudging a sluggish eternity
to continue.