31 juli 2009

la maladie de la mort




La Maladie de la Mort (Marguerite Duras)

30 juli 2009

i read, much of the night



"APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding 
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing 
Memory and desire, stirring 
Dull roots with spring rain. 
Winter kept us warm, covering        
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding 
A little life with dried tubers. 
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee 
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, 
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. 
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch. 
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, 
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, 
And I was frightened. He said, Marie, 
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. 
In the mountains, there you feel free. 
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter."

 
 


"Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
 
Had a bad cold, nevertheless 
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe, 
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she, 
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor, 
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!) 
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, 
The lady of situations. 
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel, 
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card, 
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back, 
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find 
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water. 
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. 
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, 
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself: 
One must be so careful these days."



 


"Unreal City,
 
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, 
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, 
I had not thought death had undone so many. 
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, 
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. 
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street, 
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours 
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine. 
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying 'Stetson! 
'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! 
'That corpse you planted last year in your garden, 
'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? 
'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? 
'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men, 
'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again! 
'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!'"



(fragmenten uit de meest poëtische, mooiste tekst ooit geschreven, door T. S. Eliot)

21 juli 2009

mijn boek, deel vier






(fragmenten uit 'Huis Clos', een boek met tekeningen en tekst uit mijn nachtmerries)

19 juli 2009

14 juli 2009

mijn boek, deel drie






(fragmenten uit 'Huis Clos', een boek met tekeningen en tekst uit mijn nachtmerries)

13 juli 2009

dauwmeisjes en gebroken harten




mijn boek, deel twee




(fragmenten uit 'Huis Clos', een boek met tekeningen en tekst uit mijn nachtmerries)
(fragments from 'Huis Clos', a book with drawings and text from my nightmares)

12 juli 2009

mijn boek, deel één



(fragmenten uit 'Huis Clos', een boek met tekeningen en tekst uit mijn nachtmerries)
(fragments from 'Huis Clos', a book with drawings and text from my nightmares)

11 juli 2009

meisjes van mijn dromen (filles de mes rêves)




valerie, alice en het vossenmeisje (valerie, alice et la fille renard)