Butterfly Garden. Castle of Scone, Scotland

Dear friend,

Be welcome in the English corner of our modest website, which is mainly in Dutch, as you may have noticed.

Menu 

To your left you will hopefully see the menu.

The English section is called ‘Breakable light’ and it contains some more items.

‘A piece of my mind’ is the ongoing blog. It is being fed rather unpredictably. That is where the action is. 

'Quietism' is a piece I preserved from the previous blog, at the start of 2013.

Then you can read the blog of 2012 if you like to.

Next, you can give me piece of your mind, see opinion page.

What follows below are some remnants of the older introductory pages, just meant for amusement.

 

Welcome on our little modest site

Dear friend,

please find here the latest news and a little information about our site, which is rather in Dutch I am afraid.
We managed to contrive this little English corner and want it to be extended and enlarged in time. It just takes some work every day to do it, and we will get there in time.
For the time being, enjoy the little we have on display here in the English language. It will give you some of the flavour of the rest of the site.
Lots of it is poetry and rather hard to translate.
Other things are written in common prose. It's all about me, because it is my personal website, but hopefully it is entertaining and worth your while. If not, don't bother to visit.

Passing beauty

Here is a poem I translated into Dutch

 

O Beauty, Passing Beauty!

Lord Alfred Tennyson

 

O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetest sweet!
How can thou let me waste my youth in sighs?
I only ask to sit beside thy feet.
Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes.


Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold
My arms about thee—scarcely dare to speak.
And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,
As with one kiss to touch thy blessed cheek.


Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control
Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat
The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,


The bare word "kiss" hath made my inner soul
To tremble like a lute string, ere the note
Hath melted in the silence that it broke.



Note

The translated poem can be found under 'vertalingen' under 'Pasquino'

Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892), English poet often regarded as the chief representative of the Victorian age in poetry. Tennyson succeeded Wordsworth as Poet Laureate in 1850.  

Pasquino

For those of you who wonder what this website is really about, all I can say is that is mainly in dutch, apart from the French and English introduction.
It is mainly me, myself and I, in poems and prose.
The poems are mostly sonnets and model themselves after Pasquino, the speaking statue of Rome and the source of satirical sonnets for several centuries.
People used to vent their anger anonymously by posting poems to the stele of the statue as is stil the case today, as can be seen in the picture.
Besides all the poems, of which there are a few hundred, enough to have one a day all year round, there are a few other things to consider.
Three unpublished novels, one radio play (duration one hour,) journals, the monthly newsletter etc.