Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Γεύμα μ' ένα νεκρό


Ode to Boatswain
Originally uploaded by Psycho Crow.

Το δωμάτιο ήταν πολύ σκοτεινό. Ασυνήθιστα σκοτεινό. Σαν οι βαθυκόκκινοι τοίχοι να σκούρηναν απότομα και σαν να έσβησαν τα φώτα κι αντικαταστάθηκαν από κεριά. Είχα φορέσει το λευκό μου φουστάνι το καλό.
Στα πόδια μου ίσια μπαλετάκια. Καθόλου μακιγιαζ. Το είχα χώσει στο μπαούλο μαζί με τα ψηλοτάκουνα. Ήθελα να είμαι ο μικρός μου εαυτός η αληθινή Αλίκη.

Η συνέχεια εδώ.

Μήπως απορείτε ποιος είναι ο Boatswain?
Διαβάστε αυτό :


A Memorial to Boatswain
by Lord Byron
Newstead Abbey,
November 30, 1808.

Near this spot Are deposited the Remains of one Who possessed Beauty without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity, And all the Virtues of Man without his Vices. This Praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery If inscribed over human ashes, Is but a just tribute to the Memory of BOATSWAIN, a DOG Who was born at Newfoundland, May, 1803, And died at Newstead, Nov 18th, 1808.

When some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,
The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rest below:
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been:
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his master's own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonour'd falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth:
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit!
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye! who perchance behold this simple urn,
Pass on --- it honours none you wish to mourn:
To mark a friend's remains these stones arise;
I never knew but one, --- and here he lies.
Για τη Μελένια, διαβάστε εδώ.

6 comments:

elpinor said...

Τι ομορφες οι εποχες που εχει τη δυναμη καποιος να νοιωθει τυχερος,να εισαι καλα Ματζικα

emotional_anaemia said...

Προχώρησες παραπάνω το διάβασμα αγαπημένε μου Ελπήνωρ.
Μα δεν είναι τύχη και μόνο το οτι ζούμε κι είμαστε καλά?
Που έχω φίλους σαν εσένα δεν είναι τύχη?

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