Sunday, March 27, 2022

Beers & Books CCVIII – Joseph Roth

"Die ukrainische Volkskunst ist eine ganz eigene,
mit stark ausgeprägten Kennzeichen,
und hat weder mit der russischen
noch mit der polnischen
oder tatarischen etwas gemeinsam."

Neue Berliner Zeitung – 12 Uhr Blatt, 13. Dezember 1920
"Украинское народное искусство является собственным,
с очень четкими характеристиками,
и не имеет ничего общего с русским,
польским или татарским народным искусством."

Neue Berliner Zeitung - 12-часовой лист, 13 декабря 1920 года
"Ukrainian folk art is entirely its own,
with strongly marked characteristics,
and has nothing in common
with either Russian, Polish or Tartar."

Neue Berliner Zeitung - 12 o'clock paper, 13 December 1920

Joseph Roth (2 September 1894 – 27 May 1939)

Saturday, March 26, 2022

Saturday Night Music – The Great Gate of Kiev

The Bogatyr Gates or The Great Gate of Kiev
from Pictures at an Expedition

Modest Mussorgsky (21 March 1839 – 28 March 1881)

Viktor Hartmann
(5 May 1834 – 4 August 1873

Saturday, March 05, 2022

Saturday Night Music – Fazil Say

Fazil Say *14 January 1970

March 5th: Fine date for a tyrannicide

5 March. Ten days to the Ides, when, according to Shakespeare, 2066 years ago Caesar asked incredulously: 'Et tu, Brutus?'
"What do you think about Putin?" I ask my friend who, as almost always, is busy proofreading his 1669 pages short opus magnum 'Pre-Assyrian Philately in a Nutshell'.

Tetrapilotomos, without looking up:
- I would have expected Vladimir Putler to march into Kiev sitting on the pipe of the lead tank. Then the little prick could at least have shown the world once that he has a giant pipe.
- Putler?
- Well, or Hitin, if you prefer. Riding in bare-chested on a Sibirian tiger would of course be even cooler. But the pants poisoner is too cowardly to do both. By the way, today is the 69th anniversary of Stalin's death.
- Ach, indeed? Why do you mention this?
- A fine date for a tyrannicide, wouldn't you agree?

Wednesday, March 02, 2022

The Moonlight is speechless ...

... and so am I, almost, on the first anniversary of Claude's death, which is why I let her speak.
She sent me this poem in December 2018.

She worked hard at being able
to think THINK instead of PENSER
to write a flawless letter to England as well as to France
to add Shelley to Lamartine
to exude Gallic charm mixed with British romanticism
she studied books and dictionaries
she travelled far and she lived everywhere
she met dignitaries and the people next door
she reached French and English fluency
in her dreams, tears and laughter
and when she wore this two-colour dress with elegance
she discovered
that the heart has no language, no culture of its own
The moonlight is speechless...
stars in one's eyes mean more than "Je t'aime, beloved"
and two clasped hands across a table
across a warm sea of silence
can tear down
better than a thousand well-chosen words
the tower of babel
one erects every day in one's soul.
CPG     (1970)

Thank you for everyting, Claude. De tout coeur.