Tómas Þór Mikael

Sonur minn, Tómas Þór Mikael er afar lífsglaður drengur, eins og þeir vita sem þekkja hann.

A Thought Went Up My Mind To-Day

A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish,--some way back,
I could not fix the year,

Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.

But somewhere in my soul, I know
I've met the thing before;
It just reminded me--'t was all--
And came my way no more.

Emily Dickinson

Moscow summer

Það er kominn Sunnudagur og lítið hef ég skrifað frá eigin hjarta í þetta blogg mitt, en það er ástæða fyrir því. Hún er að mér finnst að flest hafi verið upplifað áður og af fólki sem hefur skrifað um það og ég geti lítið við það bætt. Nema að deila því og minna á að þótt heimurinn sé lítill þá er hann líka stór.

Í bók sinni "Moscow summer" hefur Mihajlo Mihajlov eftir Vinokurov;

I wish to write a book one day,
In which there would be everything about time,
About its nonexistence.
That past and future are
One and the same-everything is present.
I think that all people-
The ones who live and the ones who have lived,
And the ones who have not yet lived
Are all living in this moment!

THE NEW REMORSE

O. Wilde

The sin was mine; I did not understand.
So now is music prisoned in her cave,
Save where some ebbing desultory wave
Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand.
And in the withered hollow of this land
Hath Summer dug herself so deep a grave,
That hardly can the leaden willow crave
One silver blossom from keen Winter's hand.

But who is this who cometh by the shore?
(Nay, love, look up and wonder!) Who is this
Who cometh in dyed garments from the South?
It is thy new-found Lord, and he shall kiss
The yet unravished roses of thy mouth,
And I shall weep and worship, as before.

Walt Whitman

I Sit And Look Out

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all
oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with
themselves, remorseful after deeds done;
I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying,
neglected, gaunt, desperate;
I see the wife misused by her husband--I see the treacherous seducer
of young women;
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be
hid--I see these sights on the earth;
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny--I see martyrs and
prisoners;
I observe a famine at sea--I observe the sailors casting lots who
shall be kill'd, to preserve the lives of the rest;
I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon
laborers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like;
All these--All the meanness and agony without end, I sitting, look
out upon,
See, hear, and am silent.

ÞJÓÐSÖNGUR

ég var fátæk og veikbyggð,
á fertugsaldri,
fráskilin kona.

Og ást þín blæs lífi
í ösku og gjall
minna útbrunnu vona.

Oh, Mr. Jones!
Oh, Mr. Jones!

Svona! Svona!

Steinn Steinarr

sumardagurinn fyrsti

Mikið var þetta fallegur dagur. Allt gekk upp og drengurinn minn, Tómasinn minn er svo ánægður og glaður. Hann er nú á leið í háttinn..