Everything/Anything and…Chess…"Despite the documented evidence by chess historian HJR Murray, I've always thought that chess was invented by a goddess"–George Koltanowski: from the foreword to:"Women in chess, players of the Modern Age"
You can listen to a snippet from his song…”Liefling”. This song was a big hit for many, many years in South Africa and I do believe that many South Africans still love this song! It’s a song about life! I have done a loose translation for you to understand the song – if you are an English speaker.
Lied van die lewe Om jonk te wees bring lekker dae
Die son skyn dan op elke dag
Die kinders skaats en ry fiets in die strate
Jongmense luister na nuwe plate
Niemand dink aan die tyd wat verby gaan
en dat die lewe net nie stil sal staan. (2x)
Koor: Sing met my ‘n lied van die lewe
Sing met my van jonk en oud
Die lewe gee soveel mooier dae
maar dikwels gaan dit so gou verby (2x)
Ja, dikwels gaan dit so gou verby.
Maar die lewe sal nooit stilstaan
Dae kom en dae gaan
Die jonges trou en gaan op hul eie
Nou kom daar soms sware tye
Almal werk net vir die hede
Ure, maande en jare vlieg soos die wind verby (2x)
Herhaal Koor
Die oues word dan ook weer ouer
Hul word dan oupa en oumama
Dae word dan vinnig korter
Langsaam gaan die son dan onder
Herinneringe laat ons oor die lewe wonder
Lewe van mooi en troebel dae
staan einde toe (2x)
Herhaal Koor
Song translated: I tried my best and do hope you enjoy it….
Song of life
To be young brings blissful days
The sun shines ‘bout every day
The children in the streets skate and do bike riding
Youngsters listen to new music
Nobody thinks about time flying by
And that life is moving on
And that life is moving on
Chorus:
Sing with me a song of life
Sing with me ‘bout young and old
Life gives so much back to us
But often days go flying by
Sing with me a song of life
Sing with me ’bout young and old
Life gives so much back to us
But often days go flying by
Yes, quite often the days fly so soon
But life is never ever static
Days come and days go
Young people get married and live their lives
Now come even tougher times
Everybody works as for now and here
Hours, weeks, months and years fly like the wind
Yes, hours, weeks, months and years fly like the wind
Chorus:
Sing with me a song of life
Sing with me ‘bout young and old
Life gives so much back to us
But often days go flying by
Sing with me a song of life
Sing with me ’bout young and old
Life gives so much back to us
But often days go flying by
Yes, quite often the days fly so soon
The older get much older too
They become grandpa and grandmamma
Days grow shorter very quickly
Slowly the sun goes down
Memories make us wonder ‘bout life
Beautiful and harder days
Near its end
Beautiful and harder days
Near its end
Chorus:
Sing with me a song of life
Sing with me ‘bout young and old
Life gives so much back to us
But often days go flying by
Sing with me a song of life
Sing with me ’bout young and old
Life gives so much back to us
But often days go flying by
Yes, quite often the days fly so soon
translated by: Nikita
Born in Rotterdam, The Netherlands as the youngest of eight children, Korsten and his family emigrated to South Africa when he was nine years old. He married Elna Burger and had five children.Career
Initially he worked as an electrician, but from the age of 20, started singing in choirs, some of which were televised frequently by the SABC. However, he received his first formal vocal training in 1952, when he was well into his 20s, studying under Adelheid Armhold at the South African College of Music.In 1955 he moved to Pretoria, where he was one of the founder members of the Pretoria opera company. In 1956, he debuted as Canio in Ruggero Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci.Korsten won a bursary to study in Vienna in 1962, where he received tution under Judith Hellwig. During this period he had the opportunity to perform in Vienna and Munich, but he never sang professionally outside South Africa, mainly due to family considerations. It was only in 1970 that Korsten sold his business to devote himself to full-time singing. In the course of his operatic career, Korsten appeared on stage more than 3,000 times, playing 23 roles in most of the major operas.In 1965, Korsten started his career in light music, with his album “Gé Korsten Sing Uit Die Hart” (“Gé Korsten Sings From The Heart” ), and soon became a best-selling recording artist, with a career spanning 40 years. Nine of his 58 albums achieved gold status. Most of his recorded work is light Afrikaans music, including the song “Liefling” (Sweetheart), which is still performed at rugby matches in Bloemfontein and Pretoria. His popularity as a singer also lead to lead roles in films such as Hoor My Lied (Hear My Song), Lied In My Hart (Song In My Heart) and A New Life, all of which included singing scenes. He received six Sarie awards and, in 1979, an ARTES award for his TV program “Gé Sing” (“Gé Sings”).In his later life, Korsten was well-known for his role as family patriarch Walt Vorster in the long-running South African soap opera Egoli: Place of Gold.
In 1985 he was appointed as the managing director of the Cape Performing Arts Board (CAPAB) in Cape Town, a post which he held until 1989.
In 1999, while presumably suffering from cancer, he committed suicide.
Wiki link HERE ..
Ek was deur Skoor gevra om drie inskrywings van my blog te kies wat ek baie van hou, so, hier is hulle. Die eerste inskrywing is van ‘n plek wat ek nog nie besoek het nie: Die Noord-Wes gedeelte van ons land. ‘n Baie goeie vriendin van my het daar gebly en so ver ek weet het sy nog familie daar: Pofadder.
English readers: scroll down for English. This entry is about other entries on my blog.
The Augrabies Falls National Park is also in that area – see the red star on the map…click HEREto visit the South African National Parks website linked to the Augrabies Falls Park and other National Parks too, of cours. The word “Augrabies” is derived from the Khoi word which means…”noisy one”…
Augrabies Falls
About 120 km west of Upington, in a barren and desolate land of sand, scrub and rock, the broad Orange River plunges through a massive canyon in a sudden and dramatic sequence of rapids and cascades. The waters descend through the ravine to breach the main gorge. Here, the Augrabies waterfalls drop, sheer at first and then in a misty tumble of cataracts, to the turbulent, rock-enclosed pool 200 m below.
The Augrabies Falls are without doubt the most impressive waterfalls along the Orange River and are located approximately 120 km downstream of Upington. The falls occur at a point where the Orange River alters from a wide slowly flowing river traversing sandy soils to a fast flowing narrow river cutting its way through ancient granites.
Read ON THIS SITE more about the Augrabies Waterfall and see more awesome pictures too! Follow the “Wildlife” link to read about Pangolins! Coelacanths – the African Fish Eagle -the Shangaan, the Xhosas, Shaka, the King of the Zulu, Sterkfontein Caves (a World Heritage site). Nongqawuse – Prophetess of Doom.The Xhosa people were almost led to commit suicide in the 1800’s by a fourteen-year-old ‘prophetess’; who claimed she had received a message from the ancestors.
Jasper visited Azerbaijan and if you click HEREyou can see more pictures on his blog. Azerbaijan is a country I would like to visit – these Eastern European countries do attract me!
Rosalind blogged about the Jewish concentration camps and inspired me to blog about Anne Frank and the South African concentration camps.
It’s more than a month since I’ve blogged some of my games… here’s a game which I really enjoyed. My opponent is a tough player and he didn’t make it easy for me to win this game. I played white in this game…..It was only from move 44 that things got a bit easier for me….He resigned in this game before I could checkmate him… We still have another game going, which is going to be a draw due to my position I’ve put myself in! It could be a win for me, but as I said in my other post this morning, you’ve got yourself to blame for those blunders and I would like to blog that game here once it’s finished for you to see what I’m talking about… if I was more vigilant, it could be my game…but, that’s chess and life…you’ve got to take it…or leave it..lol! Click on THIS LINK to play through the two games. The link will open in a new window.
I’ve thought to blog this end position. I played this game against one of my blogger-friends and I was so much focused on what he tried to do….and…suddenly! wow! I realised my last move is all I needed!..Knight-to-the-rescue!! Clever…hey…lol! and just look at his position! … of course needless to say I played white in this game. In this next game I played black. I don’t think my opponent saw the coming checkmate. I have left the moves, for you to follow, before he resigned.
On the chess sites where I’m playing… Chess.com and sometimes Chesscube.com, I’ve found myself sometimes in good positions and sometimes in less favourable positions… when it comes to chess, the game and the outcome lies completely with you and nobody else. You can only blame yourself for any faults/mistakes/blunders. That’s why this is such a good game to play! You can’t blame team mates! You take that blame upon yourself…and learn from that. This first image is from one of my “better” games, black was in such a good position too! Can you see why? On the next two images you can see why I, once again, like to have Knights on my board instead of Bishops…perhaps I’m just a bit better with Knights, I do prefer them more….
If you want to know if somebody is a South African, ask him to say the word…biltong… and…moreover, ask him what it is… ha! he won’t tell you what it is…he will just say…..hmmmmmmmmm…….yummmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyy!! then you will know…that is a real South African, and not a “made” one…! My favourite is….Kudu biltong! of course you get biltong made of ostritch and all kinds of animals and people have their favourites… but, please don’t try elephant biltong…too much sinews! lol! I had it once…while we travelled the Kruger National Park…never again! That’s the best thing to have with you while travelling there… because biltong is something you shouldn’t gobble up so quickly…(but if you don’t get it every day…like you’re not in SA…and you do get it once in a while…there’s just no other way…you can’t help yourself…you have to gobble it up so quickly….<sigh>..) you have to taste it…think about it….chew it slowly…think more about it and the taste…see if you can find a lion at the water hole….then have another bite… aaah! yummy…. I like mine quite dry too… cut in small bits…. yikes! mouthwatering!!
Click HERE to read original article…but…most importantly…to learn everything about Biltong, how to make it, spices, hints and tips, cutters, etc…..
The word BILTONG is derived from the words “BIL” (BUTTOCK) or meat and ‘TONG” or strip. So it is just a strip of meat.
For centuries mankind has endeavoured to preserve meat. Seafarers, centuries ago, pickled meat in large wooden caskets and devoured this during the months they were at sea. No wonder they suffered from scurvy!!
African folklore has it that migrating African tribesmen, herding their stock, would place strips of venison under the saddles on their horses as the chaffing would tenderise the meat and the sweat of the animals would spice it! This must be when vegetarians were born!!
BILTONG as we know this delicacy today, is a rich inheritance from pioneering South African forefathers who sun dried meat during their trek across the African Subcontinent.
The basic spicing is a dramatic blend of vinegar, salt, sugar, coriander and other spices. These were in abundance in the then Cape Colony, as the French Hugenots produced wine and vinegar from their grape crops and the colony was the halfway stop for seafarers plying the spice routes of the East. Various brine recipes and marinades were created and handed down for generations!
Today BILTONG and DROE WORS (dried South African sausage) is a massive industry and the most sought after delicacies in Southern Africa
Flag of 1928-1994
Following the Union of South Africa , that is the joining if the former colonies of Natal, Cape, Transvaal and Orange River on 31 May 1910, South Africa used defaced red and blue ensigns. Having suffered defeat in the Anglo-Boer War (1899-1902), many South Africansparticularly of Boer extraction found these flags unacceptable. Discussions about a new flag had taken place from time to time but were interrupted by such pressing issues as World War I and achieving Dominion Status within the British Empire etc. and it was only in 1925 that the matter began to receive renewed attention. The Balfour Declaration adopted at the Imperial Conference of 1926 defined in general terms the mutual constitutional relationship of the self-governing members of the British Empire (later Commonwealth) whereby Great Britain and the dominions were “equal in status, in no way subordinate to one another” and as such South Africa, as an independent state was entitled to a flag of its own. The flag issue in South Africa was also considered along with the question of nationality.
The issue of inclusion of the Union Jack proved to be a very emotional subject, with the English-speakers on the one side demanding its inclusion and the Afrikaners (Boers) seeing its a symbol of British imperialism demanding it be excluded! A number of proposals were put forward but it was not until the Princevlag design based on the House of Orange that consensus began to emerge. This design was based on the commonly held view that Jan van Riebeeck has raised an orange, white and blue horizontal tricolour when he arrived at the Cape in April 1652. The original design had a quartered shield in the centre, each quarter having a symbol to represent the territories making up the Union. Various other designs were submitted to a Parliamentary Committee which had been established to resolve the issue but none found favour.
Read on this link HERE more and it is really worth visiting…very extensive site with information/flags/history on South Africa ….
This song, unfortunately in Afrikaans, is beautiful… “oranje”… = orange…”blou” = blue…it’s a song to motivate people in South Africa to stand together… and to keep spirits high… to have hope….worth listening even if you don’t understand…beautiful images of the country you will enjoy… This flag is…of course you know perhaps….also our country’s old flag.. and we used to call it the “Oranje Blanje Blou”….
ORANJE-BLANJE-BLOU
Woorde: EITEMAL, na “O.D., hoch in Ehren”
Musiek: HENRY HUGH PIERSON
Die Hoogland is ons woning,
die land van son en veld,
waar woeste vryheidswinde waai
oor graf van meenge held.
Die ruimtes het ons siel gevoed,
ons kan g’n slawe wees,
want vryer as die arendsvlug,
die vlugte van ons gees.
[REFREIN]
Dis die tyd, dis die dag,
om te handhaaf en te bou.
Hoog die hart, hoog die vlag,
hoog Oranje-blanje-blou!
Ons gaan saam die donker toekoms in
om as een te sneuwel of oorwin,
met ons oog gerig op jou,
ons Oranje-blanje-blou!
Die ruwe bergereekse
staan hoog teen awendlug,
soos gryse ewighede daar
versteen, verstyf in vlug.
En stewig soos die grou graniet
ons Boeretrots en -trou,
die fondament waarop ons hier
‘n nuwe nasie bou.
[REFREIN]
Dis die tyd, dis die dag,
om te handhaaf en te bou.
Hoog die hart, hoog die vlag,
hoog Oranje-blanje-blou!
Ons gaan saam die donker toekoms in
om as een te sneuwel of oorwin,
met ons oog gerig op jou,
ons Oranje-blanje-blou!
Die God van onse vaders
het ons hierheen gelei,
ons dien sy grootse skeppingsplan,
solank ons Boere bly.
Ons buig ons hoof voor Hom alleen;
en as Hy ons verhoor
omgord ons bly die lendene:
Die toekoms wink daar voor.
[REFREIN]
Dis die tyd, dis die dag,
om te handhaaf en te bou.
Hoog die hart, hoog die vlag,
hoog Oranje-blanje-blou!
Ons gaan saam die donker toekoms in
om as een te sneuwel of oorwin,
met ons oog gerig op jou,
ons Oranje-blanje-blou!
ISBN:0798139021
Herman Charles Bosman
Publisher:Human & Rousseau
We read this book during secondary school and I loved these stories of “Oom Schalk Lourens”…”oom” means “uncle”… I think I should get myself this book again! I know I have one…packed away…very old copy…my dad used to go around at bookshops…when he was young…think I take after him in that way…lol!
Herman Charles Bosman was one of South Africa’s best (yeah, I know I always call the story writers and poets the “best”…because I try to focus on the best if not the “very” best! lol)… classical story writers….read on Wiki about him… see you later…
Herman Charles Bosman (February 3, 1905 – October 14, 1951) is the South African writer widely regarded as South Africa’s greatest short story writer. He studied the works of Edgar Alan Poe and Mark Twain, and developed a style emphasizing the use of irony. His English-language works utilize primarily Afrikaner characters and point to the many contradictions of Afrikaner society in the first half of the twentieth century.
Bosman was born at Kuilsrivier, near Cape Town to an Afrikaner family, although he was raised with English as well as Afrikaans. While Bosman was still young, his family moved to Johannesburg where he went to school at Jeppe High School for Boys in Kensington. He was a contributor to the school magazine. When Bosman was sixteen, he started writing short stories for the national Sunday newspaper (the Sunday Times). He attended the University of the Witwatersrand submitting various pieces to student’s literary competitions.
Upon graduating, he accepted a teaching position in the Groot Marico district, in an Afrikaans language school. The area and the people inspired him and provided the background for all his best known short stories; the Oom Schalk Lourens series and the Voorkamer sketches. The Oom Schalk Lourens series features an older character with that name. the Voorkamer series are similarly all set in the Marico region.
During the school holidays in 1926, he returned to visit his family in Johannesburg. During an argument, he fired a rifle at his stepbrother and killed him.
Bosman was sentenced to death and moved to Death row at the Pretoria Central Prison. He was reprieved and sentenced to ten years with hard labour. In 1930, he was released on parole after serving half his sentence. His experiences formed the basis for his semi-autobiographical book, Cold Stone Jug.
He then started his own printing press company and was part of a literary set in Johannesburg, associating with poets, journalists and writers, including Aegidius Jean Blignaut. Needing a break, he then toured overseas for nine years, spending most of his time in London. The short stories that he wrote during this period formed the basis for another of his best-known books, Mafeking Road.
At the start of the Second World War, he returned to South Africa and worked as a journalist. He found the time to translate the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam into Afrikaans.
Read HERE on Wikipedia…more about him…
Herman Charles Bosman’s best-loved stories about the Marico District are published here for the first time in the form intended by the author. This text of Mafeking Road – edited by Craig MacKenzie – is the first to appear from the original versions, with an introduction and notes on the texts.
Bosman’s storyteller figure Oom Schalk Lourens takes us into the world of the concertina-player who leaves the Marico for fame and glory; the girl who returns from finishing school to dazzle and dupe the Marico yokels; the Boer War soldier with a tragic story to tell about his son; the legendary leopard of Abjaterskop; the man who kills his wife and buries her under the dung floor of his voorkamer …
Jealousies, hatreds, loves and betrayals – the entire range of human emotions are laid bare in a manner at once humorous and satirical, romantic and ironic. Mafeking Road reveals to us a world quaint and distant … and yet powerfully familiar.
Herman Charles Bosman, who died of a heart attack in 1951, is one of South Africa’s most famous story-tellers. This is a classic collection of his short stories. As a person he had a unique way of seeing life, an intense excitement that he managed to convey in his stories. His books are pre-eminent in the field of South-African literature.
Read on THIS SITE more and you can view more books written by him in English as well as in Afrikaans. You can order the book HERE from Kalahari.net….
Please click HERE to visit the Groot Marico on your next trip…this is HC Bosman-world…and read about Patrick Mynhardt… Patrick Mynhardt was the Honory Life President of the HC Bosman Literary Society.
If you like this, you’d also like…
(for the witty teller of folk-tales:
-Mark Twain, “The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County” (1867) and other sketches and stories.
-Sholom Aleichem, Tevye’s Daughters, and other stories (c.1905-1916).
On THIS LINK you can see pics of Pretoria and pics about the roads…and on THIS LINKyou can see why it’s also called the Jacaranda City…and Pretoria is one of 3 capitals of SA…in case you didn’t know…it… Cape Town and Bloemfontein are the other capitals…on one of my links you can read why we have 3 capitals! On these three videos, you can follow the history of the Voortrekker Monument …and why Pretoria is called Pretoria… To me…Pretoria will be PRETORIA and not..Tshwane!! According to WIKI Tshwane comes from “black cow” or “monkey” – from the Ndebele word “tshwene”!
The words of the song on the last video…it gives me goosebumps to hear it!! When I was at school… we used to sing this song…. about “Young South Africa”, the National Anthem, the Flag song AND the school song…every week…yes, every school in SA has got a song as part of the school ethos……. and you are very proud when singing it…you would stand to attention when singing it…it’s really a beautiful song, hope I can get a translation somewhere! It describes the country in a beautiful way… DIE LIED VAN JONG SUID-AFRIKA
Woorde: EITEMAL; gewysig: P. MCLACHLAN
Musiek: HUGO GUTSCHE; verwerk: DIRKIE DE VILLIERS
En hoor jy die magtige dreuning?
Oor die veld kom dit wyd gesweef:
die lied van ‘n volk se ontwaking
wat harte laat sidder en beef.
Van Kaapland tot bo in die Noorde
rys dawerend luid die akkoorde:
Dit is die LIED van Jong Suid-Afrika,
dit is die LIED van Jong Suid-Afrika,
dit is die LIED van Jong Suid-Afrika.
Die klop van die Voortrekkerwawiel
het die eeue se rus verstoor;
die klank van die voorlaaierskote
het klowe en kranse gehoor.
Die diere het stil staan en luister,
die bome het bewend gefluister:
Dit is die KOMS van Jong Suid-Afrika,
dit is die KOMS van Jong Suid-Afrika,
dit is die KOMS van Jong Suid-Afrika.
Waar songloed in glorie die berge
oor hul fronsende voorhoof streel,
waar ruisende wind oor die vlaktes
met grassaad kerjakker en speel,
die land wat ons vaders gekoop het,
met bloed tot ons eie gedoop het:
Dit is die LAND van Jong Suid-Afrika,
dit is die LAND van Jong Suid-Afrika,
dit is die LAND van Jong Suid-Afrika.
Die golwende veld is ons woning
en ons dak is die hemelblou;
die Vryheid alleen is ons koning,
sy wagwoord is: “Handhaaf en bou”.
Die stryd wat ons vaders begin het
sal woed tot ons sterf of oorwin het.
Dit is die EED van Jong Suid-Afrika,
dit is die EED van Jong Suid-Afrika,
dit is die EED van Jong Suid-Afrika
These pictures were taken about 9:30-ish this morning… it didn’t snow that much…as you can tell from the pictures……this is our front garden…
This is our back garden…with the “garage”… not a garage to our “standards”, I would rather call it a storage room…we have two guinea-pigs in there too! They are somewhere on my blog!
This last picture was taken about 2 hours later than the others, just to show you how little it snowed actually…. we had snow here, quite thick, last year – I think it was during January…
This is a picture which “Squirrel” from the chess site has sent me … he lives north…about 2 hours from London….
This pic is from the BBC’s website, taken near Harrismith, South Africa
When I was at Primary School I had to know this poem. I’ve translated this poem as I’ve thought it’s just a brilliant poem to be shared and enjoyed by English readers too. Update 2011: I was lucky that this translation was chosen as part of a Reading Series in South Africa. I’ve just received my booklet from the publishers in South Afria. The series: Enchanted Stone Series – Wonderful Verses by F. Viljoen & L. Southey. The book is a Reader 3 Level 6-book.
This is my translation of the poem…”Dans van die reen”
‘n Vriendelike versoek: Indien jy van my vertaling van die gedig hou, kan jy asseblief ook so gaaf en vriendelik wees en die Kopiereg-reel gehoorsaam en erkenning gee aan die vertaler van die gedig? Baie dankie, ek sal dit waardeer. Ek het die moeite aangegaan om die gedig te vertaal en dink darem dat dit net goeie maniere is om ook erkenning te gee waar nodig.
English readers: If you enjoy this translation of my poem and you would like to use it on your site – or somewhere else: It’s just good manners and being polite to acknowledge the person who translated the poem! There is the law of copyright and I think we should all obey it. Nikita is my nickname I use for the blog, my own Afrikaans poems and poems I translate. Thank you for your consideration.
The Dance of the Rain
Song of the violinist: Jan Konterdans
translated by:Nikita
DIE DANS VAN DIE REËN – Eugene Marais
Lied van die vioolspeler. Jan Konterdans.
Uit die Groot Woestyn
O die dans van ons Suster!
Eers oor die bergtop loer sy skelm,
en haar oge is skaam;
en sy lag saggies.
En van ver af wink sy met die een hand;
haar armbande blink en haar krale skitter;
saggies roep sy.
Sy vertel die winde van die dans
en sy nooi hulle uit, want die werf is wyd en die bruilof groot.
Die grootwild jaag uit die vlakte,
hulle dam op die bulttop,
wyd rek hulle die neusgate
en hulle sluk die wind;
en hulle buk, om haar fyn spore op die sand te sien.
Die kleinvolk diep onder die grond hoor die sleep van haar voete,
en hulle kruip nader en sing saggies:
“Ons Suster! Ons Suster! Jy het gekom! Jy het gekom!”
En haar krale skud,
en haar koperringe blink in die wegraak van die son.
Op haar voorkop is die vuurpluim van die berggier;
sy trap af van die hoogte;
sy sprei die vaalkaros met altwee arms uit;
die asem van die wind raak weg.
O, die dans van ons Suster!
[Uit: Versamelde gedigte – Eugene Marais]
On THIS LINKyou can read more about him and read one of his books online…”The Soul of the White Ant”… a study of termites…
Read HEREon BBC about the death of the rain queen in 2005. She was the sixth rain queen…Makobo Modjadji, the rain queen of the Balobedu people. And…THISis the “valley” of the rain queen.
Rain Queen Modjaji
More about the Rain Queens on this link…..Please click HEREto read more and to see whereabouts the Rain Queen lives!
Visitors to the area always brought Modjadji gifts and tribute, including cattle and their daughters as wives, to appease her so that she would bring rain to their regions. The custom is allied to an emphasis on fertility of the land and the population. The name Lobedu is thought to derive from the practice, referring to the daughters or sisters who were lost to their families. The Rain Queen extends her influence through her wives, because they link her politically to other families or villages. Her status as marrying women does not appear to indicate lesbianism, but rather the queen’s unique ability to control others. During the Mfecane, which took place in the early 19th century, Modjadji moved her tribe further south into the fertile Molototsi Valley, where they founded the present day Kingdom In South Africa they sell these little African dolls and I love them.I want to call this doll my little “rain queen.” Read on THIS LINK about the Balobedu people.
Beautiful song! called the “Rain Dance”.- by Adiemus
This song’s title is also called…”Rain Dance”-by Michael Chapdelaine
Image…Wikipedia Click HEREon this post to read my translation of his poem “Dans van die reën” in English…The link will open in a new window. “The Dance of the rain”…and you can read about this book on the link too.
“EUGÈNE Marais was a South African poet, a story-teller, a journalist, a lawyer, a psychologist, a natural scientist, a drug-addict, and a great genius — an abused and forgotten genius, and the world is the worse off for that.” Read “Soul of the Ant”HERE online.
Eugene Marais was one of South Africa’s more talented writers/poets. I love his poems although I haven’t read his books. I borrowed “The Soul of the Ant” one day – when I was at Primary – but I guess I was too young to read such a book, so I didn’t finish it and read only the first few pages. Some of his poems is about nature like the ‘Winter’s Night’ (translated in English here) and the “Dans van die reën” which is -translated: ‘Dance of the rain.‘ In this poem, he describes the animals’ reaction when the rain is on its way and he describes the rain and her ‘dance.‘ Marais is just brilliant in the way he played with words/metaphors etc. Sadly, he committed suicide in 1936. ReadHEREon Wiki more about him. The link will open in a new window. On the bottom of this post you will find a link to a post on my blog – in English – about Eugene Marais…he was a naturalist, scientist, writer and poet. He made a study of ants and you can see the book he wrote “The soul of the Ant” on that link…and his other book…”The soul of the Ape”… Author: Julee Dickerson Thompson
ISBN: 865432597
Binding: Paperback
Publisher: Africa World Press (March 1997)
The following translation of Marais’ “Winternag” is by J. W. Marchant:
“Winter’s Night”
O the small wind is frigid and spare
and bright in the dim light and bare
as wide as God’s merciful boon
the veld lies in starlight and gloom
and on the high lands
spread through burnt bands
the grass-seed, astir, is like beckoning hands.
O East-wind gives mournful measure to song
Like the lilt of a lovelorn lass who’s been wronged
In every grass fold
bright dewdrop takes hold
and promptly pales to frost in the cold!
Eguene N Marais WINTERNAG
by Eugene Marais
O koud is die windjie
en skraal.
En blink in die dof-lig
en kaal,
so wyd as die Heer se genade,
le die velde in sterlig en skade
En hoog in die rande,
versprei in die brande,
is die grassaad aan roere
soos winkende hande.
O treurig die wysie
op die ooswind se maat,
soos die lied van ‘n meisie
in haar liefde verlaat.
In elk’ grashalm se vou
blink ‘n druppel van dou,
en vinnig verbleek dit
tot ryp in die kou!
DIE DANS VAN DIE REËN – Eugene Marais Lied van die vioolspeler. Jan Konterdans.
Uit die Groot Woestyn
O die dans van ons Suster!
Eers oor die bergtop loer sy skelm,
en haar oge is skaam;
en sy lag saggies.
En van ver af wink sy met die een hand;
haar armbande blink en haar krale skitter;
saggies roep sy.
Sy vertel die winde van die dans
en sy nooi hulle uit, want die werf is wyd en die bruilof groot.
Die grootwild jaag uit die vlakte,
hulle dam op die bulttop,
wyd rek hulle die neusgate
en hulle sluk die wind;
en hulle buk, om haar fyn spore op die sand te sien.
Die kleinvolk diep onder die grond hoor die sleep van haar voete,
en hulle kruip nader en sing saggies:
“Ons Suster! Ons Suster! Jy het gekom! Jy het gekom!”
En haar krale skud,
en haar koperringe blink in die wegraak van die son.
Op haar voorkop is die vuurpluim van die berggier;
sy trap af van die hoogte;
sy sprei die vaalkaros met altwee arms uit;
die asem van die wind raak weg.
O, die dans van ons Suster!
[Uit: Versamelde gedigte – Eugene Marais] Read on THIS LINK on my blog more about Eugene Marais…Article in English…The link will open in a new window.
I don’t know Laurinda Hofmeyr’s music, but she’s got an album with the song…”Dans van die reen”. I hope one of my blogger-visitors from SA would be able to tell me more…
Snitte:
1. Lied van die bruidegom – Johan Myburg
2. 26 November 1975 – Breyten Breytenbach
3. Op reis na die Suide – Breyten breytenbach
4. Inbrand – Breyten Breytenbach
5. Die dans van die reën – Eugène N. Marais
6. Kind – Rabindranath Tagore
7. Ek sal sterf en na my vader gaan – Breyten Breytenbach
8. ‘n Halwe engel – Breyten Breytenbach
9. Last grave at Dimbaza – Fanie Olivier
10. Die reis – Breyten Breytenbach
11. Lied van die bruidegom (improvisasie)
Update – 5/8/2018 – I have found more info and will add it soon.
Areas where the Dutch and French Huguenots were given farms to settle.
The French Huguenots from La Rochelle
The Huguenot monument in Franschhoek (the Huguenots fled religious persecution in France, and many settled in the Cape). Today, many Afrikaner names show their French origins and I’m one of those many South Africans. I’m busy with a family-history-study of my ancestors and this is what I’ve found so far. This post will get updated as I find more information. Most links in this post will open in a new window.
Update: 30/6/2013
The Haidee
Read HERE MORE about the French Huguenots that settled in South Africa. (This link does not work anymore!)
Jan.09 update: Please follow this link if your surname is Celliers/Cilliers/Cillie…etc.
Another record…Josube Cellier, b 1676, Orleans, France..
Click on THIS LINK to use the search facility to find ancestors…..
On Olivetree HERE you can see more passenger-lists…Please click HERE for more information on the France Huguenots that came to South Africa. And on THIS LINK you can read more about the Religion War and French Huguenots… This LINK HERE is a passenger ship-list of Huguenots that arrived in South Africa between 1683 and 1756.
Search THIS SITE for more information on these records.
The REYGERSDAL arrived at Table Bay in 1700…passengers on the ship, click on the image for a clear, larger view.
Kinders van Josué Cellier en Elisabeth Couvret
b1 Josué =Paarl 02.01.1701 X Ongetroud, + 19.04.1770
b2 Jan *c1702, X Paarl 5.12.1728 Anna Marais weduwee van Gabriel Rossouw
b3 Pierre =Paarl 10.11.1703, +Voor 1712
b4 Elisabeth =Paarl 26.07.1705, X c1724 Pierre Malherbe
b5 Francina =Paarl 30.10.1706, X Paarl 12.04.1727 Pierre le Roux
b6 Maria =Kaapstad 07.09.1708, X Paarl 7.09.1732 Johannes Hubertus van Amsterdam XX Paarl 8.05.1735 Urbanus Sauermann van Mühlbeck
b7 Abraham =Paarl 21.09.1709, X Paarl 6.12.1744 Anna Rossouw
b8 Pieter =Stellenbosch 16.08.1711, Ongetroud, +04.12.1792
b9 Susanna =Paarl 24.09.1713, Ongetroud, +Paarl 14.07.1733
b10 Judith =Paarl 01.03.1716, Ongetroud, +Paarl 24.07.1733
b11 Magdalena =Paarl 26.12.1717, X Stellenbosch 29.04.1736 Pierre le Roux
Kinders van Paul Roux en Claudine Seugneté
1. Paul *c1689
2. Pieter *c1692
3. Hester *c1693
4. Anne =Paarl 25.12.1694
5. Joseph =Paarl 14.10.1696
6. Jeremie =Paarl 01.09.1697
7. Jean =Paarl 22.04.1699
Josué Cellier was afkomstig van Orléans, Frankryk waar hy in ongeveer 1667 gebore is. Hy was moontlik die seun van Josué Cellier en Judith Rouilly wat `n seun Nicolaas in die naburige dorpie Bazoches-en-Dunois laat doop het. Elisabeth Couvret is nege jaar later in ongeveer 1676 ook in Orléans gebore.
Bronne verskil oor wanneer Josué en Elisabeth Frankryk verlaat het. Volgens een bron in 1685, na die herroeping van die Edik van Nantes, toe Josué 18 jaar oud was en Elisabeth 9. Hierdie edik het vir bykans `n honderd jaar `n mate van godsdiensvryheid aan die Protestante verleen en die herroeping daarvan het `n oormatige vervolging van die Protestante tot gevolg gehad. Volgens `n ander bron het hulle Frankryk in 1697 verlaat na die beëindiging van die negejarige oorlog tussen Nederland en Frankryk toe hulle onderskeidelik 30 en 21 jaar oud was.
Of hulle wel in Frankryk getroud is, is onseker.
Simon van der Stel het in 1679, pas na sy aanstelling as goewerneur aan die Kaap, `n versoek gerig dat boere toegelaat moet word om na die Kaap toe te kom, maar aangesien die Kaap slegs as `n verversingspos beskou is, is sy versoek geweier. Die toenemende getal Franse vlugtelinge wat na Nederland gestroom het na die herroeping van die Edik van Nantes het egter tot `n beleidsverandering gelei wat dit vir Josué en Elisabeth moontlik gemaak het om na die Kaap te verhuis.
Persone wat oorweeg sou word om na die Kaap te gaan, moes selfonderhoudend wees en Josué met sy kennis van landbou, wynbou en sy vaardigheid as timmerman het hieraan voldoen. Verskeie voorwaardes is ook gestel, onder andere:
– Hulle sou kosteloos op die skepe van die handelsmaatskappy die Verenigde Oos-Indiese Kompanjie (VOC) vervoer word, mits `n eed van getrouheid aan die Kompanjie afgelê word.
– Geen bagasie, behalwe dié wat vir eie gebruik nodig was, kon saamgeneem word nie. Op kontantgeld was daar egter geen beperking nie.
– Landbouers sou soveel grond kry as wat hulle kon bewerk, terwyl landbougereedskap, saadkoring en vee aan hulle verkoop sou word.
– Hulle sou verplig wees om vir vyf jaar aan die Kaap te bly, maar kon met die nodige motivering `n versoek tot die Here XVII, die hoogste gesag van die VOC, rig om die tydperk te verkort.
– Indien hulle na vyf jaar weer na Nederland wou terugkeer, moes hulle teen `n vasgestelde tarief die reisgeld betaal en kon hulle niks uit die Kaap saamneem nie, behalwe dit wat hulle aan hul persoon gehad het.
Die eerste Franse vlugtelinge vertrek einde 1687 uit Nederland en in 1699 is die VOC versoek om nie meer Franse Kaap toe te stuur nie. Dit is dus onseker of Josué en Elisabeth onder die voorgemelde voorwaardes na die Kaap gekom het en of hulle dit op eie inisiatief gedoen het. Hulle seil op 2 Mei 1700 aan boord van die Reygersdaal vanaf Goeree, `n Suid-Hollandse eiland. Ook aan boord was Elisabeth se broer Paul Couvret, sy vrou Anne Valleté en hul dogtertjie.
Vir beter beskerming het `n aantal skepe gewoonlik saam uitgevaar, maar daar kon nie vasgestel word of enige ander skepe saam met die Reygersdaal uitgevaar het nie. `n Reis na Kaap het in daardie jare enigiets van drie tot ses maande geduur en die Reygersdaal arriveer Saterdag 21 Augustus 1700 in die Kaap, maar moes tot die volgende middag voor die hawe lê. ‘Op de naarmiddag’ van Sondag 22 Augustus anker hulle in die hawe ‘onder een slap zuyd west luchtje’.
Oor die algemeen was die skepe waarmee die vlugtelinge oorgekom het maar klein en het passasiers gewoonllik hutte op die agterdek gehad sonder enige wasgeriewe. Voedsel wat aan boord geneem is, is noukeurig deur die VOC gespesifiseer – brood, ingelegde vleis, stokvis en soutvis, ingelegde haring, bier, Franse en Spaanse wyn, brandewyn, botter, olie, asyn, lemmetjiesap, stroop vir ontbyt en vir die bier, pruimedante, rysgort, grou- en groenertjies, mosterdsaad, mierikwortel en sout. Kos, water en bier het betreklik gou bederf terwyl wyn langer goed gebly het.
Skeurbuik, wat hoofsaaklik deur die gebrek aan vars voedsel veroorsaak is, het algemeen voorgekom en het bygedra tot `n hoë persentasie sterfgevalle tydens `n seereis. Verder was daar nog gevare soos storms, brand en aanvalle deur seerowers. Die skipper van die Reygersdaal, Martin de Jeught, rapporteer met hul aankoms in die Kaap slegs een sterfgeval en agt siekes aan boord wat die indruk skep dat Josué en Elisabeth se vaart sonder enige buitengewone voorvalle afgelê is. Twee weke na hul aankoms sit die Reygersdaal sy vaart na Batavia (Djakarta op die Indonisiese eiland Java) voort.
Uit die huwelik tussen Josué en Elisabeth word elf kinders gebore, vyf seuns en ses dogters. Slegs Pierre sterf as kind terwyl Susanna en Judith binne tien dae van mekaar sterf; Susanna op 20-jarige ouderdom op 14 Julie 1733 en Judith op 19-jarige ouderdom op 24 Julie 1733. Die oudste en jongste seuns Josué en Pieter is nooit getroud nie en sterf respektiewelik op 69-jarige en 81-jarige ouderdom. Die twee seuns deur wie die vanne Cellier, Celliers, Cillié en Cilliers voortgedra sou word, is Jan wat in 1728 met die weduwee Anna Marais trou en Abraham wat in 1744 met sy broer Jan se stiefdogter Anna Rossouw trou. Elisabeth trou in ongeveer 1724 met Pierre Malherbe, Francina in 1727 met Pierre le Roux en Magdalena in 1736 ook met `n Pierre le Roux, `n neef van haar suster Francina se man. Maria trou in 1732 met Johannes Hubertus, `n Hollander, en na sy dood hertrou sy in 1735 met Urbanus Sauermann, `n Duitser – sy is die enigste kind wat nie met `n Hugenote-afstammeling getroud is nie.
Die Paarl se kerk waarin Josué en Elisabeth se oudste kinders gedoop is, was nie veel meer as `n saaltjie wat die Franse aanmekaar getimmer het nie en is na geweldige storms in Oktober 1716 so beskadig dat dit onbruikbaar was. Totdat die nuwe kerk in 1720 in gebruik geneem is, is dienste aan huis van die predikant ds Van Aken gehou en hul jongste kind Magdalena is moontlik hier gedoop. Pieter en Maria is moontlik in Stellenbosch en Kaapstad gedoop omdat daar vanaf 1707 tot 1714 geen predikant in die Paarl was nie. Die twee kinders wat wel gedurende hierdie tyd in die Paarl gedoop is, is moontlik deur `n besoekende predikant gedoop.
Beide Josué en Elisabeth, soos talle ander Hugenote, was ongeletterd. Alhoewel sommige geleer het om hulle naam te teken en ook om te skryf, was Josué en Elisabeth skynbaar nie onder diegene nie. In 1720 maak Josué sy merk wanneer hy hul gesamentlike testament teken en wanneer Elisabeth in 1724 `n nuwe testament opstel, teken sy ook deur haar merk te maak.
Die peil van onderwys aan die Kaap was laag en Paul Roux, met wie Elisabeth na Josué se dood sou trou, word as onderwyser van die Franse gemeenskap in die Paarl aangestel. Huismeesters is ook deur sommige gesinne in diens geneem en hul vergoeding het meestal bestaan uit 8 tot 14 gulden per maand, 1 tot 2 pond tabak, voedsel, drank, goeie huisvesting en soms klere aan die einde van die jaar. Jacob Naudé wat in 1718 as matroos in die Kaap aangekom het, was eers huismeester by Pierre Joubert teen 10 gulden en `n halwe pond tabak per maand en vanaf 1719 tot 1720 huismeester by Josué Cellier teen 10 gulden en een pond tabak per maand.
In haar testament van 1724 stel Elisabeth vir Jan as voog oor sy minderjarige broers en susters aan en bepaal dat hy ‘verpligt zijn’ om hulle eerlik op te voed en ook om hulle te laat leer, lees, skryf of `n handvaardigheid te laat aanleer. Dokumente wat deur vier van haar kinders geteken is, is teëgekom; Francina teken as beide Fransina Cellie en Fransina Celie, Maria as Marie cellier; Magdalena as Madalena Cellie en Pieter as Piter Seliee.
Of Josué en Elisabeth Hollands matig was, is onbekend, maar hul kinders sou weens regeringsbeleid Hollands moes aanleer. Hierdie beleid het veroorsaak dat die Franse taal aan die Kaap in onbruik geraak en uitgesterf het. Nadat die eerste predikant van die Paarl, Pierre Simond, die Kaap in 1702 verlaat het, verklaar Goewerneur Willem Adriaan van der Stel hom bereid om te sorg dat die Franse taal in onbruik raak deur die gebruik van Hollands op skool en in die kerk in te stel. Vertoë is gerig omdat min mense `n preek in Hollands kon volg en daarna is twee dienste op `n Sondag toegelaat, een in Hollands en een in Frans, maar na 1726 word daar nie weer melding gemaak van Franse dienste nie.
Josué en Elisabeth vestig hulle aanvanklik op die plaas Het Kruys Pad (Kruispad), naby die huidige voorstad Brackenfell, waar hulle tot ten minste 1709 gewoon het. In Januarie 1708 ‘ten huijse van Josua Sellier geleegen aant kruispad tusschen de bottelerije en tijgerbergen’ het daar twaalf mense ‘zaaten en dronken’. `n Vryswarte wat op sy eie grond geboer het, Pieter Harmensz, algemeen bekend as Brasman, kom toe daar aan en beskuldig vir Jacob Bourbonnais, een van Josué se gaste, daarvan dat hy sy sweep gesteel het. `n Onderonsie ontstaan en Brasman steek vir Bourbonnaise met `n mes en snou hom toe : ‘Jou donders kind, daar heb je genoeg daar is bloed’. `n Eis vir skadevergoeding word ingestel, Bourbonnaise vir ongemak en pyn asook verlore tyd en Jacob Bisseux, in wie se huis Bourbonnais verpleeg is, vir sy verpleging en gepaardgaande uitgawes. Brasman se vonnis was om gegesel te word, skadevergoeding en kostes te betaal en hy word lewenslank uit die Kaap verban.
Nog `n insident waarby Josué betrokke was, was die ontevredenheid oor Goewerneur Willem Adriaan van der Stel se administrasie. Aanvanklik is VOC-amptenare nie toegelaat om te boer nie omdat hul mededinging die boere finansieel kon knak, maar teen die tyd dat Josué en Elisabeth in die Kaap aankom, boer Van der Stel en bykans al die hooggeplaaste VOC-amptenare op hul eie plase. Mettertyd tree hulle ook tot die mark, wat alreeds swak was, toe en bly die gewone boere met hul podukte sit. In 1706 word `n klagskrif van ondermeer omkopery en afpersing teen Van der Stel en verskeie amptenare opgestel en Elisabeth se broer Paul Couvret is een van die persone wat dit onderteken. Op sy beurt stel Van der Stel `n getuigskrif op wat tevredenheid met sy administrasie uitspreek en ook van sy goeie karakter en eerlikheid getuig. Persone wat weier om te teken word ondermeer gedreig dat hulle van hul grond ontneem sou word. Josué teken die getuigskrif – die inskrywing by sy se merk lui : ‘het merke van Josue Siljee’. Die meeste van die Hugenote wat geteken het, het later verklaar dat alhoewel hulle ontevrede was met Van der Stel se wanbestuur hulle bang was dat hulle hul grond sou verloor. Moontlik was dit ook by Josué `n oorweging aangesien hy op hierdie stadium nog nie sy eie plaas besit het nie. Die uiteinde van die klagskrif was ondermeer dat Willem Adriaan van der Stel en van sy volgelinge van hul poste onthef en na Holland teruggeroep is.
In 1709 word Josué nog in die opgaafrolle van die Distrik Stellenbosch, waaronder Kruispad geresorteer het, opgeneem. Geen opgaafrolle het vir die jare 1710-1711 behoue gebly nie en in 1712 word hy in die opgaafrolle van die Distrik Drakenstein opgeneem. Het Kruys Pad word op 15 Maart 1712 aan Josué toegeken, maar daar kan nie veel van hierdie datum afgelei word nie aangesien plase wat aan boere toegesê is, d.w.s toestemming verleen is om die grond te bewoon en te benut, dikwels eers etlike jare later aan hulle toegeken is, d.w.s hul eiendom geword het. In die Paarl koop hy die plaas Orléans (57 morg 300 vk roede) wat op 11 Oktober 1713 op sy naam oorgedra word. Hier boer hy en Elisabeth tot en met hulle dood.
‘n Dokter (chirurgyn) Gideon le Grande het joernaal gehou van sy mediese dienste en `n gedeelte van sy joernaal vir 1710 het behoue gebly. Op 9 Februarie 1710 skryf hy medikasie van scafran vir Josué Cellier voor, maar hierdie inskrywing is later weer doodgetrek. Wat scafran is, is onbekend en waarom die inskrywing later doodgetrek is, is ook onbekend. Van die siektes wat aangeteken is, is bloedvloeiing, geswelde voete, keelseer, kopseer, kortasem, krampe in die ingewande, longsiekte, maagpyn, niere, sooibrand, snydings, sweer en verkoue. Bloedlating as behandeling kom die meeste voor, ondermeer vir pyn aan die arm en skouer; daarna purgasies van sennablare en nieskruid.
In 1712 keer Elisabeth se broer Paul Couvret en sy gesin na `n verblyf van twaalf jaar aan die Kaap terug na Europa. Hy het op die plaas Goede Hoop, 60 morg, in die Paarl geboer.
Die Paarl se lidmaatregisters is waarskynlik sedert die stigting van die gemeente in 1691 bygehou, maar die eerste register wat behoue gebly het, is dié van 1715. Onder ‘Der Ledematen die de Predikant Van Aken in die Kerke van Drakenstyn in den jare 1715 gevonden heeft’, was ‘Jossue Sellier en syne vrouw Elizabeth Couvret’ en die totale aantal lidmate is as 104 aangeteken. Teen 1725 het die aantal lidmate tot 146 gegroei.
Oor Josué se boerderyaktiwiteite gedurende sy eerste paar jaar aan die Kaap is min bekend weens die onvolledigheid van die opgaafrolle. In 1704 besit hy slegs 4 koeie, maar teen 1709 verbou hy reeds 8 000 wingerdstokke, besit hy 5 perde en 18 beeste en het hy ook 60 mud koring geoes. In latere jare besit hy tot 300 skape en produseer jaarliks tot 3 lêers (1 731 liter) wyn.
Josué sterf op 54-jarige ouderdom in Oktober 1721 en laat die 45-jarige Elisabeth agter met tien kinders tussen die ouderdomme van 4 en 20 jaar. Van die items wat in sy boedelinventaris gelys word, met die waarde in guldens Indiese valuta aangedui, is:
Die plaas Orleient 2 900
15 beeste 450
1 wa 100
en 16 lêers wyn 480.
Elisabeth hertrou in ongeveer 1722 met die 57-jarige wewenaar Paul Roux. Hul presiese huweliksdatum is onbekend aangesien die Paarl se huweliksregisters vir hierdie tydperk verlore is. Paul en Elisabeth kon nie baie lank getroud gewees het nie aangesien hy op 7 Februarie 1723 oorlede is, sestien maande na haar eerste man. Na Paul se dood het Elisabeth nie weer hertrou nie.
Paul Roux was `n bekwame man wat kort na sy aankoms in die Kaap in 1688 aangestel is as onderwyser, voorleser en sieketrooster vir die Franse gemeenskap in die Paarl, poste wat hy tot sy dood toe beklee het. Saam met Pierre Simond was hy gereken as een van die grootste stryders vir die gebruik en behoud van die Franse taal aan die Kaap. Teen die tyd dat hy en Elisabeth getroud is, was die kinders uit sy eerste huwelik almal reeds mondig. Hy het ‘n kleinerige plasie Oranje, 2 morg 250 vk roede, in die Paarl besit wat na sy dood na sy seun Jeremie Roux gegaan het. Vir meer inligting kyk ook onder stamvader Paul Roux.
Na haar tweede man se dood, sit Elisabeth en haar vier seuns die boerdery op die plaas voort. Verdere hulp met die boerdery word verkry met die aankoop van haar eerste slaaf in 1728 en teen 1743 besit sy vier slawe, een slavin en twee slawekinders. Vanaf 1732 tot 1734 werk haar skoonseun, Johannes Hubertus, as kneg op die plaas. In ‘n kontrak wat op 27 September 1732 tussen hulle gesluit is, onderneem hy om haar ‘voor den tyd van een geheel Jaar trouw en naarstig te dienen als knegt’ teen `n maandelikse betaling van twaalf Caabse guldens asook huisvesting en voedsel. Hierdie kontrak word op 26 Oktober 1733 vir nog `n jaar verleng. Teen 1743, kort voor haar dood, word 10 lêers (5 773 liter) wyn geproduseer en met tye was daar tot 6 perde, 30 beeste en 200 skape op die plaas. Benewens koring, word rog ook gesaai.
In 1738 boer die 62-jarige Elisabeth en drie van haar seuns, Josué, Abraham en Pieter, nog op die plaas en bied hulle vir nagenoeg `n jaar skuiling aan die 39-jarige voortvlugtende Estienne Barbier, `n sersant in diens van die VOC. Estienne was ook van Orléans, Frankryk afkomstig en het in 1734 as gewone soldaat in diens van die VOC in die Kaap aangekom. In Mei 1737 lei Estienne se beskuldigings van ondermeer geldverduistering en korrupsie teen `n luitenant tot `n lastersaak en Estienne word skuldig bevind. Hy appèlleer, besef weldra dat sy appèl nie veel kans het om te slaag nie en ontsnap op 24 Maart 1738 uit die Kasteel waar hy onder arres was. Na sy ontsnapping bly hy ongestoord op Orléans, omdat die owerhede onder die indruk was dat hy hom op `n skip versteek en na Holland teruggekeer het. In Februarie 1739 verlaat hy Orléans en begin `n hoofsaaklik skriftelike veldtog teen die ongeregtighede van die owerhede. Met die ontevredenheid wat reeds in die Kaap geheers het, het hierdie veldtog die potensiaal gehad om `n burgelike opstand te begin en in Maart 1739 word hy deur die owerhede ‘vogel-vry’ verklaar – hulle soek hom, lewend of dood. Hy word eers ses maande later in hegtenis geneem, verhoor en ter dood veroordeel. Hierdie vonnis, wat in die openbaar voltrek is, het behels dat hy aan `n kruis vasgebind word, onthoof word, sy regterhand afgekap word, die res van sy liggaam gevierdeel word en sy ingewande onder die skavot, waar die vonnis voltrek is, begrawe word. Sy liggaamsdele is daarna op pale in die openbaar vertoon – sy kop en regterhand by die ingang van die Roodezandkloof, tussen Paarl en Tulbagh, en sy vier liggaamsdele langs die besigste paaie in die Kaap.
Elisabeth sterf op 67-jarige ouderdom in ongeveer 1743. In haar testament van 1724 het sy bepaal dat haar kinders gelykop moet erf en alhoewel dit `n algemene bepaling was dat `n plaas aan `n spesifieke persoon bemaak word teen `n vasgestelde bedrag, doen sy dit nie. Sy spreek slegs haar begeerte uit dat Orléans na haar afsterwe ‘soude in volle bezit gegeeven werden aan haar oudste zoon Josua Cellier’. Skynbaar het Josué nie veel erg aan boerdery gehad nie aangesien hy na sy ma se afsterwe by sy suster Elisabeth in die Wellington omgewing gaan woon het. Jan boer in 1743 reeds op sy eie plaas Druiwevallei. Abraham neem van die vee oor, word die eerste Cellier wat oor die berge trek en vestig hom in die huidige Rawsonville omgewing waar hy homself hoofsaaklik op veevoerdery toespits. Pieter neem die oorblywende vee, slawe en die plaas oor en was, sover vasgestel kon word, die laaste Cellier-eienaar van Orléans. Vansverandering van Cellier na Celliers, Cillié en Cilliers
Die verandering van Josué Cellier se nageslag se van van Cellier na Celliers, Cillié en Cilliers kon nie aan ‘n spesifieke tyd of geslag gekoppel word nie. Selfs op die dokumente wat vir Josué nagegaan is, word sy van benewens Cellier ook as Celliers, Sellier, Selliers, Siljee, Silliers, Sollier en Zilie gespel.
Vir die volgende drie geslagte (b, c en d-geslagte) is die spelling van Josué se nasate se van legio, onder andere Celie, Celje, Cellie, Cellier, Celliers, Cielje, Cilie, Cilje, Cilli, Cillie, Cillier, Cilliers, Cillje, De Cilliers, De Silliers, Seliee, Seliers, Selje, Sellie, Sellier, Sielje, Silie, Silje, Siljee en Silliers.
Dit is eers vanaf die vierde geslag (e-geslag) dat die spellings Celliers, Cillié en Cilliers meerendeels gebruik is, maar van die voorgemelde variasies het steeds voorgekom. Daar kon ook nie altyd bepaal word watter spelling ‘n spesifieke persoon gebruik het nie omdat spelling van dokument tot dokument kon verskil en dit het tot in die 1900’s nog voorgekom. Verder was ‘n bepaalde spelling ook nie altyd deur al die lede van ‘n gesin en hul nageslag gebruik nie.
Cilliers is die spelling wat die meeste teëgekom is.
Die eerste afstammeling van Jan (b2) wat die Celliers spelling algemeen gebruik het, was Jacob Daniel (b2c1d1e1f4) en daarna sy nageslag, maar Jacob Daniel se twee broers en hul nageslag het weer hul van as Cilliers gespel. Onder die nageslagte wat die Kaap Kolonie verlaat het, wil dit voorkom asof die Celliers spelling algemeen in die Lichtenburg- en Vryburg-omgewing gebruik is terwyl die Cilliers spelling weer in die Marico-omgewing asook in die Oranje Vrystaat en Natal gebruik is. By Abraham (b7) se afstammelinge wat in die Kaap Kolonie gebly het, is die Celliers spelling net by enkele lede van ‘n gesin teëgekom, maar hierdie spelling is dikwels nie behou nie.
Alhoewel die Cillié spelling wel op dokumente van Abraham (b7) se afstammelinge voorkom is, is die spelling nie behou nie. Hierdie spelling is slegs deur sommige van Jan (b2) se afstammelinge behou. Die eerste afstammeling van Jan (b2) waar hierdie spelling algemeen deur ‘n gesin gebruik is, is by sommige van die kinders van Petrus (b2c1d2), maar selfs hier wissel die spelling op dokumente vir dieselfde persoon nog tussen Celliers, Cillié, Cilliers asook sommige van die voorgemelde variasies. Sover vasgestel kon word, is sy seun Petrus Johannes (b2c1d2e2) se nageslag die enigste wat die Cillié spelling behou het terwyl sy seun Johannes Arnoldus (b2c1d2e6) se nageslag hul van as Celliers, Cillié en Cilliers spel.
Bronne: Genealogiese Publikasies
De Villiers, C C en Pama, C Geslagsregisters van Ou Kaapse Families, A A Balkema, Kaapstad en Rotterdam, 1981.
Heese, J A en Lombard, R T J/GISA, Suid-Afrikaanse Geslagsregisters – Deel 1-4, A-K. Ander Publikasies
Böeseken, A J, et al, Drie Eeue Die Verhaal van ons Vaderland, Nasionale Boekhandel, Kaapstad, 1952.
Botha, Colin Graham The French Regugees at the Cape, Struik, Cape Town, 1970.
Burman, Jose So High the Road, Human & Rousseau, Cape Town, 1963.
Coertzen, Pieter Die Hugenote in Suid-Afrika 1688-1988, Tafelberg, Kaapstad, 1988.
De Jongh, P S Sarel Cilliers, Perskor, Johannesburg, 1987.
De Klerk, W A Klein Reis deur Drakenstein, Perskor, Johannesburg, 1974.
Franken, J L M Argiefjaarboek vir Suid-Afrikaanse Geskiedenis – Die Hugenote aan die Kaap, Pretoria, 1978.
Hugenote Vereniging van Suid-Afrika, Franschhoek – Verskeie Bulletins.
Le Roux, J G Bewaarders van ons Erfenis, GISA, Stellenbosch.
Le Roux, J G Hugenotebloed in ons Are, RGN, Pretoria, 1988.
Le Roux, J G Ons Drakensteinse Erfgrond, Drakenstein Heemkring, Paarl.
Muller, C J F (Ed), Five Hundred Years, A History of South Africa, Academica, Cape Town and Pretoria, 1973.
Penn, Nigel Rogues, Rebels and Runaways, David Philip Publishers, Cape Town, 1999.
Schoeman, Karel Armosyn van die Kaap, Human en Rousseau, Kaapstad, 1999.
Trewhella, Cameron (Red), Nuwe Geskiedenis van Suid-Afrika, Human & Rousseau, Kaapstad, 1986. Kaapse Argiefbewaarplek, Kaapstad
Boedelinventaris MOOC 8/4 no 33
Handtekeninge by W A van der Stel se getuigskrif C2416-p20
Huwelikshofnotules
Joernaal van Gideon le Grande MOOC 14/1 Vol 1, no 19
Kontrak CJ 2883-no81
Likwidasie- en Distribusierekenings
Opgaafrolle
Resolusies van die Politieke Raad – Dele 1 tot 10
Sterftekennisse
Testamente CJ 2600 no 28 en CJ 2602 no 33
Vendusierolle
VOC Dagregisters 1699
Weilisensies N G Kerk Argief, Kaapstad
Doderegisters
Doopregisters
Huweliksregisters
Lidmaatregisters
Today…15th October 2008…I’ve received this msg from Wayne Visser…(see his poem and site in this entry too….(poem about Africa)…and if you’re interested in his request…then please contact him…he’s looking for people writing poems..but about Africa!
Hello again I thought I’d let you (and your lekker vriende) know that I’ve launched a “Poets of Africa” blog – http://poetsofafrica.blogspot.com/.Just email me on wayne@waynevisser.com and I will give permission for you to post. www.waynevisser.com
Afrikaanse digters welkom! Kwa heri Wayne” Links will open in a new window.
Today…21st March 2008… is World Poetry Day! I do love poems, I love to read poems and I like to write my own too. On my blog at the top you will now find a page saying…”My poems…gedigte”…a few of my own poems…also you will find a couple of English poems which I’ve translated from Afrikaans…beautiful poems…one from a famous writer/poet/scientist/naturalist…Eugene Marais…”The Dance of the Rain..” take a look and enjoy! also one by Totius…his little daughter died after being struck by lightning..in his arms and he wrote a poem about her…very sad poem….or you can read it HERE…the link will open in a new window. You can also read “The Dance of the Rain” on THIS LINK it’s a very powerful/beautiful poem…full of metaphors…and read about Eugene Marais and the Rain Queen…on that link. The link will open in a new window.
enjoy…the Dance of the Rain!..originally in Afrikaans…”Die Dans van die Reën” by Eugene Marais. If you click on the page saying…”My Poems/gedigte”…you will find more of Wayne Visser’s poems also one which he has asked me to translate…and some of my own poems too, also the poem of the girl that was struck by lightning is to be found on that page. – see the top of my blog for the page-link and I’ve translated Wordsworth’s poem (from English to Afrikaans)…I wandered like a lonely cloud…
Image:tploy.com
The Dance of the Rain Song of the violinist: Jan Konterdans
translated by:Nikita
This next poem was written in Afrikaans by Ingrid Jonker and adapted by e.e. cummings…many of her wonderful poems were translated in English and other languages. I love her poems!
Image:johnfenzel.typepad.com Somewhere I have never travelled – Iewers het ek nooit gereis nie
Ingrid Jonker…..adapted by e.e. cummings
+ somewhere I have never travelled,
gladly beyond any experience,
your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which I cannot touch because they are too near
~~~~~
iewers het ek nooit gereis nie daardie groen verte
verby alle herinneringe jou oë dra hul stilte
in jou geringste gebaar is daar iets wat my omsluit
of wat ek nie durf aanraak nie iets te ná
~~~~
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though I have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself
as Spring opens(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
~~~~
jou oë van landskappe sal my maklik blootlê
al het ek my hart gesluit soos twee hande
jy ontvou my keer op keer soos die lente
bedrewe en heimlik haar eerste roos
~~~~
or if your wish be to close me, I and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
~~~~
en as jy my sou verlaat geslote dan
sou my voorhoof sluit mooi en onmiddelik
soos die hart van ‘n blom sou droom
van ‘n wit sneeu wat alles oral bedek
~~~~
nothing which we are to perceive in this world
equals the power of intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
~~~~
niks wat ons in hierdie wêreld kan versin
ewenaar die krag van jou broosheid die tekstuur
van jou oë tref my die groen van sy veld
een bevestig die ewige en die vir altyd met elke sug
~~~~
(I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;
only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
~~~~
ek weet nie wat dit is wat jou laat vou
en ontvou nie ek verstaan net êrens op my reise
die stem van jou oë is dieper as alle rose
nee nie eens die reën nie het sulke hande On THIS LINK you can read more about Ingrid…a link to Wikipedia…there’s a Youtube-song to watch…Afrikaans song…one of Ingrid’s poems…and there’s another song to listen to! The link will open in a new window.
and….on THIS LINK you can read more about e e cummings…the link will open in a new window. If you’re a teacher THIS SITE is really a great site to use for poetry/literacy…try it- the link will open in a new window.
image:worldgolf.com/images/destinations/africa/southafrica.jpg This next poem is written by Wayne Visser…you can read about him on THIS LINK …the link will open in a new window.
I know a place in Africa…
Inspiring poetry written by Wayne Visser,
a South African currently based in Nottingham, UK.
I know a place in Africa
Where I can feel the sun on my back
And the sand between my barefoot toes
Where I can hear the gulls on the breeze
And the waves crash on the endless shore
I know a place in Africa
Where the mountains touch the skies of blue
And the valleys shelter vines of green
Where the trees spread out a cloth of mauve
And the bushveld wears a coat of beige
I know a place in Africa
Where I can hear the voice of thunder gods
And watch their lightening spears thrown to earth
Where I can breathe the scent of rain clouds
And taste the sweet dew of dusty drops
This is the place of wildness
Of evolution and dinosaurs
Where life began and mankind first stood
Of living fossils and elephants
Where lions roar and springbok herds leap
This is the place of struggle
Of desert plains and thorn trees
Where pathways end and hunters track game
Of horizons and frontiers
Where journeys start and sunsets bleed red
This is the place of freedom
Of exploration and pioneers
Where darkness loomed and light saw us through
Of living legends and miracles
Where daybreak came and hope now shines bright
My heart is at home in Africa
Where the sound of drums beat in my chest
And the songs of time ring in my ears
Where the rainbow mist glows in my eyes
And the smiles of friends make me welcome
My mind is at ease in Africa
Where the people still live close to the soil
And the seasons mark my changing moods
Where the markets hustle with trading
And Creation keeps its own slow time
My soul is at peace in Africa
For her streams bring lifeblood to my veins
And her winds bring healing to my dreams
For when the tale of this land is told
Her destiny and mine are as one
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
The child is not dead
The child lifts his fists against his mother
Who shouts Africa ! shouts the breath
Of freedom and the veld
In the locations of the cordoned heart
~~~
The child lifts his fists against his father
in the march of the generations
who shouts Africa ! shout the breath
of righteousness and blood
in the streets of his embattled pride
~~~
The child is not dead not at Langa
nor at Nyanga not at Orlando
nor at Sharpeville
nor at the police station at Philippi
where he lies with a bullet through his brain
~~~
The child is the dark shadow of the soldiers
on guard with rifles Saracens and batons
the child is present at all assemblies and law-givings
the child peers through the windows of houses and into the hearts of mothers
this child who just wanted to play in the sun at Nyanga is everywhere
the child grown to a man treks through all Africa
the child grown into a giant journeys through the whole world
Without a pass
Ingrid Jonker March 1960
(Translation of: “Die Kind” ) Poems now owned by Simone Jonker…daughter of Ingrid
On THIS LINK you can see podcast-videos of her poems in both Afrikaans/English…worth visiting! The link will open in a new window.
Judith Polgar was born in Hungary on 23 July 1976. Her childhood consisted of an extensive chess education from her father and her sisters, and she began to compete internationally as early as 1984. In 1991 she became an International Grandmaster by winning the “men’s” Hungarian championship. At fifteen years and five months of age, she was the youngest grandmaster in history, breaking a record that Robert James Fischer had held for over 30 years. She has been the highest-rated woman ever since FIDE’s January 1990 list, and in 2003 she entered the overall top ten. In 2005, she became the first woman to take part in the final of the FIDE World Championship (see World Chess Championship (2005)). However, she finished last out of the eight players and fell to 14th in the world rankings after the event.
Polgar’s career-best tournament performances include four victories at Essent (twice shared), clear first at Madrid 1994, and clear second at Corus 2003. She currently lives in Budapest with her husband and their two children. Her sister, Susan Polgar, is also a grandmaster and you will find her blog-link on my blog on the Chess Blogroll…..
See her games collections HERE …
Name: Peter Svidler
Age: 31 (6/17/1976)
FIDE Title: Grandmaster (gained his GM norms in 1994)
Current ELO rating: 2763 (FIDE rating list)
Current Chess960 rating: 2733 (Chess960 rating list)
Current coach: IM Andrei Lukin
Hobbies: Listening to good music, reading, cricket and any kind of billiards
CAREER HIGHLIGHTS
* Chess960 World Champion (Mainz 2003, 04 & 05)
* FIDE World Chess Championship Semifinalist (Moscow 2001)
* Russian Champion: 1994, 95, 97 & 2003
* Olympic Champion: 1994, 96, 98, 2000 & 2002 / Silver medal: 36th Chess Olympiad (2004)
* Co-winner of Tilburg 1997 & Dortmund 1998 & 2006 Read more about Peter Svidler HERE on his official site.
World Cup champion Vishwanathan Anand did not require even a single original move to earn a comfortable draw with veteran Dutch Grandmaster Jan Timman while Judith Polgar shot into sole lead after a thumping victory over Anatoly Karpov in the fourth round of 65th Corus chess tournament in Wijk Aan Zee (the Netherlands) on Thursday.
Polgar, the world’s best women’s player, produced an amazing display of her attacking prowess against the former Russian world champion to take the sole lead with three points.
The Russian duo of Braingames match winner Vladimir Kramnik and Evegeny Bareev, Spaniard Alexei Shirov and Anand are close on the heels of the leader half a point behind while as many as five players including Karpov are tied with a fifty per cent score at fifth place.
In the Grandmaster Group ‘B’ tournament, former world junior girls’ champion Koneru Humpy drew with women’s World championship finalist Alexandra Kosteniuk of Russia to take her tally to 1.5/4.
Read the entire news article HERE ….
I think this is great! Chess is a game not seen as a “sport” in some countries…sad hey? but hey…what’s Chess doing for Mother Earth? more than most other sports that I know of! Let’s all do our bit!
What’s one unique, creative way to draw attention to global warming and the issues surrounding it? Well, the folks at Global Inheritance recently came up with the idea of an ultimate chess match played on a life-sized board between the forces of good and evil. Yep, that means hummers vs. bikes, coal vs. solar, factories vs. trees… It all played out this weekend during the Virgin Festival in Toronto as a fun, great way to get people thinking about the better choices they can make to help slow the process of climate change that promises to “checkmate” all of us if we don’t get our act together.
Click HERE for the original article…
This SITE is really a great site about global warming for kids! Check it out!
You can also read the “love letter” HERE …And…on THIS LINK you can watch it online…wait a few minutes for it to load though! The links will open in a new window.
Doing plenty of mentally-stimulating activities – such as playing chess, reading a newspaper, or attending a play – in old age helps reduce the risk of Alzheimer’s disease, according to a study of more than 700 elderly people.
The Chicago residents, who averaged 80 years of age at the start of the study, underwent annual cognitive testing for up to five years. During the study, 90 people developed Alzheimer’s disease, and 102 died.
However, the Rush University Medical Centre researchers found that those who were “cognitively active” were 2.6 times less likely than those who got minimal mental stimulation to develop Alzheimer’s disease.
The study, published June 27 in the journal Neurology, also found that frequent mental stimulation was associated with a reduced risk of mild cognitive impairment – a transitional stage between normal aging and dementia – and less rapid decline in cognitive function.
The researchers said their findings may help in the development of strategies to prevent or delay Alzheimer’s disease. – (HealthDayNews)
Read news article HEREon health24.com. Links will open in a new window. Please click HEREto read more about Alzheimer’s disease.
And on THIS LINK you can read more or less the same article… Click on this link to see a video about Chess and Altzheimer How Chess can sharpen your Wits
All links in this post will open in a new window.
I will always like the music of Queen..this song is called..Las Palabras de Amor. Enjoy!
“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightfowardingly, without complexeties or pride. So I love you because i know no other way than this…” Pablo Neruda “A kiss is something you cannot give without taking and cannot take without giving.”
“Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man’s son doth know”. William Shakespeare in Twelfth Night (II, iii, 44-45) “Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.” Alexander Smith Enjoy this song by South African singer…Steve Hofmeyr…”You got me”…
And this South African Golden Oldie! Ge Korsten with “Liefling” and liefling means..”darling”…
Enjoy this song…”Fields of Gold” by Eva Cassidy
Enjoy this song by Ilse de Lange: “What does your heart say now?”
Slide down for the article…”Romance in Chess”…
Listen to the poem on this audio file too…by Robert Burns….source:http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics/redredrose.html Notes: According to “Scottish Songs Illustrated,” this song is a Robert Burns rewrite of an older street ballad, which is said to have been written by a Lieutenant Henches, as a farewell to his betrothed.
0, my love is like a red, red rose,
that’s newly sprung in June.
0, my love is like a melody,
that’s sweetly play’d in tune.
As fair thou art, my bonnie lass,
so deep in love am I,
And I will love thee still, my dear,
till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
and the rocks melt wi’ the sun!
And I will love thee still, my dear,
while the sands of life shall run.
And fare the weel, my only love!
And fare the well awhile!
And I will come again, my love.
Tho it were ten thousand mile!
Read on THIS LINK too the poem by Elizabeth Barret Browning…”How do I love thee”…enjoy! One of my favourites!
”How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death. Today I’m in a mood to blog about love… What is love? What is your view, we discussed this at work….and we all agreed to the following conclusions…..Is it a sensation..a shared feeling between two people… ..based on physical and emotional attraction.. spontaneously generates when the right person appears. And of course also, it can spontaneously degenerate when the magic “just isn’t there” anymore. You fall in love, and you can fall out of it.
Love is the attachment that results from deeply appreciating another’s goodness. What we value most in ourselves, we must value most in others. God created us to see ourselves as good ….hence our need to either rationalize or regret our wrongdoings….In the Bible He said…after creating us humans… “and that was good”… So, too, we seek goodness in others. Nice looks, an engaging personality, intelligence, and talent may attract you, but goodness is what moves you to love.LOVE IS A CHOICE. Love is active. You can create it. Just focus on the good in another person …..and everyone has some!! If you can do this easily, you’ll love easily.
Love is care, demontrating active concern for the recipient’s life. Love is responsibility. Love is respect, the ability to see a person as he/she is, to be aware of his/her unique individuality. A big part of love is putting another person’s happiness ahead of your own. If you have to “prove” your love to someone, I don’t believe that he/she loves you the way you might think he/she does.When you love another person you don’t ask them to sacrifice a part of themselves in the name of that love. Love is not about jealousy. It is not about conflict. It is not about testing. Love is not about spitefulness. How do you show love to other people? Nobody expect you to “love” all people the way you love your husband/wife, but it is expected from us to “love your neighbour as you love yourself”.
Enjoy the poem: Love Song by T S Eliot
Communication, Communication, and Communication……..on THIS LINK you can read how important communication in a relationship between a married couple is.The link will open in a new window.
T S Eliot On THIS LINK you can read his extract “The Game of Chess”.
Click HEREto read more love poems on my blog.
And…on THIS LINK on my blog….you can read the poem of E A Poe…Annabel Lee…a beautiful love poem. Ben Jonson
T H E F O R E S T . IX. — SONG. — TO CELIA.
Drink to me, only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine ;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I’ll not look for wine.
The thirst, that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine :
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not wither’d be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me :
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.
Love Song
I lie here thinking of you:
the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves, smears with saffron horned branched the lean heavily against a smooth purple sky! There is no light only a honey-thick stain that drips from leaf to leaf and limb to limb spoiling the colors of the whole world- you far off there under the wine-red selvage of the west!
~~~William Carlos Williams
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Song to Celia
by Ben Jonson
Drinke to me, onely, with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kisse but in the cup,
And Ile not looke for wine.
The thirst, that from the soule doth rise,
Doth aske a drinke divine:
But might I of Jove’s Nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee, late, a rosie wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered bee.
But thou thereon did’st onely breath,
And sent’st it back to mee:
Since when it growes, and smells, I sweare,
Not of it selfe, but thee.
Robert Browning
A Woman’s Last Word
Let’s contend no more, Love,
Strive nor weep:
All be as before, Love,
—Only sleep!
What so wild as words are?
I and thou
In debate, as birds are,
Hawk on bough!
See the creature stalking
While we speak!
Hush and hide the talking,
Cheek on cheek!
What so false as truth is,
False to thee?
Where the serpent’s tooth is
Shun the tree—
Where the apple reddens
Never pry—
Lest we lose our Edens,
Eve and I.
Be a god and hold me
With a charm!
Be a man and fold me
With thine arm!
Teach me, only teach, Love
As I ought
I will speak thy speech, Love,
Think thy thought—
Meet, if thou require it,
Both demands,
Laying flesh and spirit
In thy hands.
That shall be to-morrow
Not to-night:
I must bury sorrow
Out of sight:
Must a little weep, Love,
(Foolish me!)
And so fall asleep, Love,
Loved by thee.
–Robert Browning
Next I have a National Poet of South Africa…A G Visser. He’s written some beautiful love poems in Afrikaans! A.G. Visser en Lettie Conradie.
Hy trou in 1913 met Lettie, oorlede in 1920,
en in 1927 met Marie de Villiers.
Read more about A G Visser here on this link.
Liefdes gedigte: A G Visser Misère
(Triolet) The light that lies
In women’s eyes
Just… lies and lies!
In die eerste instansie,
wie sou nou kon dink,
Dat die liefde iets is
so beroerd ongestadig?
Dat die hand wat uit gulde
bokale laat drink,
In die eerste instansie,
wie sou nou kon dink
Dat dit eendag nog edik
en gal weer sal skink,
Ongevoelig meedoënloos,
wreed, ongenadig?
In die eerste instansie,
wie sou nou kon dink
Dat die liefde iets is
So beroerd ongestandig! http://www.gedichtenbundel.be/testliefdefoto1Eheu fugaces…
Si jeunesse savait.
Si vitesse avait.
Onthou jy nog, Anita lief,
Die aand daar by die strand,
My hart vir jou ’n ope brief,
Jou handjie in my hand?
Die maanlig het die see gesoen,
Die see … die strand, nog heet –
En ons … wat kon ons anders doen?
Kan ons dit ooit vergeet?
Cherie Yvonne, het jy vergeet
Die les in Afrikaans?
Die beste taal het ons geweet,
Die tyd in ou la France.
En aan my hemel onbewolk
Was jy die goue son;
“Toujours l’Amour” was onse tolk;
Onthou jy nog, Yvonne?
Mooi Gretchen, kan jy nog onthou
Ons tyd van soete min?
Die Neckar met sy waters blou,
Jou ogies blou daarin?
Die donkergroene dennewoud
Was liefdes-heiligdom –
Alt Heidelberg, die jeug van goud,
En jy – sal nooit weer kom!
En, bonnie Jean, onthou jy nog
Die eiland van die Swaan?
Ben Lomond en die donker loch
By heldere somermaan?
Aan rosebanke trek ons twee
(Was dit ’n droom – wie weet?)
Wit swane oor die lewensee –
Kan ek dit ooit vergeet?
Maar eenmaal in die lewe kom
Die liefde weergaloos;
En eenmaal in die gaarde blom
Volmaak ’n wonderroos.
Verwelk, helaas, my tuin se prag –
Weg met die donker stroom –
Die wind deurwaai my hof by nag
En vind my met my droom.
O lippe wat nog lag en lonk!
O harte wat nog klop!
Steeds doem gestaltes ewig-jonk
Uit die verlede op.
“Eheu fugaces anni …” sing
Gedagtes wat nou skroei;
Op velde van herinnering
Pers amarante bloei!
Ballade van die roos
’n Ou Spaanse gesegde noem die volgende
drie stadieë in die lewe van ‘n roos:
In die more: rosa pallida.
In die middag: rosa perfecta.
In die aand: rosa incarnada
Waarheen ook my oë mag staar
En waar ook my voete mag gaan,
Geduriglik droom ek van haar;
Haar beeltenis lief lag my aan,
Ek sien – as die sterrelig taan –
’n Roosknop wat stadig ontvou: –
– My noointjie van ver-hier-vandaan –
O „Pallida Rosa”, vir jou!
O blomkelk, met skoonheid belaan,
Ek smag op die middag-uur lou
My noointjie van ver-hier-vandaan
O „Rosa Perfecta”, na jou!
Ek ken jou nog nie – dit is waar –
Maar êrens moet jy tog bestaan;
Die aandson gloei rooi op die blaar
En ’k voel jy’s g’n ydele waan,
Want rooi sprei die liefde haar vaan!
En donker die oë getrou
– My noointjie van ver-hier-vandaan –
O Roos „Incarnada” – van jou!
Was jy ’n rosebloesem
En ek die roos se geur,
Hoe heerlik deur die lewe
Steeds rondom jou te swewe.
Beswymend aan jou boesem,
Betower deur jou kleur.
Was jy ’n rosebloesem
En ek die roos se geur.
Was jy ’n lied se woorde
En ek die melodie.
Hoe sou die dag verheerlik
Jou skoonheid so begeerlik;
Die nag tril van akkoorde
En soetste harmonie.
Was jy ’n lied se woorde,
En ek die melodie.
Was jy die hoogste kranse,
En ek die sonnegloed.
Jou wange sou dan verwe
En op jou lippe sterwe
My eerste moreglanse
En laaste awend-groet;
Was jy die hoogste kranse
En ek die sonnegloed
Maar jy ’s Prinses van Verre
En ek… ’n troebadoer;
Al gloei ook my gesange
Van liefde en verlange,
– Die vuurvlieg vir die sterre –
Wat my ten hemel voer;
Jy bly Prinses van Verre
En ek… ’n troebadoer.
Stille Rivierstroom….Nick Taylor
Die middagson helder en klaar
Sien neer van sy blou hemelbaan;
Die roos sal haar hart openbaar
Aan wie haar geheime verstaan.
Jou huis is waar jou hart is
My hart is leeg geween
Vandat sy verdwyn het
wandel ek oral alleen
Sing oor somer briese
Jou weemoed sleep weer oor
Saammet die lowerstruike
sing my ‘n hemelse koor
Chorus:
Liefde, Liefde’s ‘n stille rivierstroom
wat vloei deur ons woestynland
Droog die rivier weg
dan sal al die klein vissies sterf
Ek stap deur lee strate
Die echo’s maak my seer
My hart is soos my hande
soekend maar bly altyd leeg
Woestyne kan my nie keer nie
Ek baan deur storms my weg
Ek sal die rivier weer terugvind
voor hierdie klein vissie sterf
Chorus
ROMANCE IN CHESS? Romance in chess? ‘What could possibly be less romantic than chess?’ you might be asking. After all, chess is a game of war based on logic, isn’t it? There is nothing romantic about war or logic.
Many players are familiar with the famous quote by Dr. Siegbert Tarrasch from the preface to his classic manual The Game of Chess : ‘Chess, like love, like music, has the power to make men happy’ (which politically correct writers of more recent times change to ‘the power to make people happy’). Less familiar is Tarrasch’s preceding sentence, ‘I have always a slight feeling of pity for the man who has no knowledge of chess, just as I would pity the man who has remained ignorant of love.’
Chess once served a social function of allowing young men and women to meet above the board. Echecs et Féodalité : Raoul de Cambrai (Chess and feudalism; from Culture et curiosités, see the link box in the upper right corner of this article) tells of a poem by Bertolai, a 10th century poet from Laon, France. The poem, about a war of succession in Northern France, references chess twice. In the second reference chess is used as an excuse by the daughter of the new overlord Guerri to woo the hero Bernier to her chambers. Her chamberlain, assigned the task of arranging the meeting, says to Bernier, ‘My young lord, you can be proud of yourself, since the daughter of Guerri, the most noble woman from here to the south of France, asks that you join her in her apartments, to play chess. You should comply, but don’t play chess.’
The significance of this might be lost in our age of instant gratification, but as recently as 100 years ago, chess still occasionally served as a means to a more romantic end.
This popular illustration by Clarence Frederick Underwood (American, 1871-1929), is often listed under various titles. Our favorite is Knight takes Queen. This theme is not as unique as you might think. One web site has a collection of more than 50 drawings and photos, all with the theme ‘Couples playing chess’ (see the link box again). The images invariably have titles like ‘The right move’, ‘The greatest game in the world’, or variations on the word mate : ‘Impending Mate’, ‘Check and mate’, etc. The word ‘checkmate’ even figured in at least one early valentine. ‘My little love do you remember,
Ere we grew so sadly wise,
When you and I played chess together,
Checkmated by each others eyes?’
Source: http://chess.about.com/library/weekly/aa05b12.htm
Wow, one chess player on the chess site tells me he’s busy reading this book! E..er…
Chess legend Boris Spassky visits rival Bobby Fischer’s grave
Tue Mar 11, 5:13 PM ET
REYKJAVIK (Reuters) – Boris Spassky, the Soviet chess champ who famously squared off against Bobby Fischer in Iceland at the height of the Cold War, visited his former rival’s grave on Tuesday at a small cemetery near the capital.
Fischer, who died in January aged 64, bested Spassky in that headline-grabbing 1972 match to become the first, and still only, American world chess champion.
A clearly moved Spassky bent and dusted snow off the grave and flowers before straightening up and wiping his eyes.
“Do you think the spot next to him is available,” he joked to reporters afterward, adding, “We will see what happens.”
Fischer beat Spassky again in a 1992 rematch played in the former Yugoslavia that defied U.S. sanctions and turned him into a fugitive from his native United States.
He eventually became an Icelandic citizen after coming to the small North Atlantic island nation in 2005.
The former child prodigy was in his later life known as much for his incendiary remarks and his battle with U.S. law enforcers as for his facility at the chessboard.
Although he was Jewish, Fischer often made anti-Semitic remarks and said after the September 11 attacks he wanted to see his the United States wiped out.
Spassky has offered few comments about his former rival in the wake of Fischer’s death, saying only the man was a friend.
The Russian-born former champion, who now lives in Paris, was in Iceland with his wife for a chess event dedicated to Fischer’s memory.
Speaking with reporters in Iceland on Sunday, Spassky said chess now was just not the same as in his day.
“As for the modern chess, I am pessimistic because in my view computers killed classic chess,” he said.
Thomas Stearns Eliot (1888-1965) was born in St. Louis, Missouri, of an old New England family. He was educated at Harvard and did graduate work in philosophy at the Sorbonne, Harvard, and Merton College, Oxford. He settled in England, where he was for a time a schoolmaster and a bank clerk, and eventually literary editor for the publishing house Faber & Faber, of which he later became a director. He founded and, during the seventeen years of its publication (1922-1939), edited the exclusive and influential literary journal Criterion. In 1927, Eliot became a British citizen and about the same time entered the Anglican Church.
READ HERE more about TS Elliot.
On THIS LINK you will find the entire “Wasteland” by TS Elliot. A Game of Chess by T. S. Eliot
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Glowed on the marble, where the glass
Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines
From which a golden Cupidon peeped out
(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)
Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra
Reflecting light upon the table as
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,
From satin cases poured in rich profusion;
In vials of ivory and coloured glass
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,
Unguent, powdered, or liquid— troubled, confused
And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air
That freshened from the window, these ascended
In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,
Flung their smoke into the laquearia,
Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
Above the antique mantel was displayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
“Jug Jug” to dirty ears.
And other withered stumps of time
Were told upon the walls; staring forms
Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.
Footsteps shuffled on the stair.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be savagely still.
“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
“Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
“What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
“I never know what you are thinking. Think.”
I think we are in rats’ alley
Where the dead men lost their bones.
“What is that noise?”
The wind under the door.
“What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?”
Nothing again nothing.
“Do
“You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember
“Nothing?”
I remember
Those are pearls that were his eyes.
“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—
It’s so elegant
So intelligent
“What shall I do now? What shall I do?”
I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
“With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?
“What shall we ever do?”
The hot water at ten.
And if it rains, a closed car at four. And we shall play a game of chess, Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said—
I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself,
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Now Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart.
He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you
To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.
You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,
He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you.
And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert,
He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time,
And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said.
Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said.
Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
If you don’t like it you can get on with it, I said.
Others can pick and choose if you can’t.
But if Albert makes off, it won’t be for lack of telling.
You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.
(And her only thirty-one.)
I can’t help it, she said, pulling a long face,
It’s them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.
(She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George.)
The chemist said it would be alright, but I’ve never been the same.
You are a proper fool, I said.
Well, if Albert won’t leave you alone, there it is, I said,
What you get married for if you don’t want children?
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,
And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot –
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight.
Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.
Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
On THIS LINK on my blog, you can read more about the Boer War. You will find some Boer War art, poetry and a lengthy entry about the war with many links to other sites too.
Today I was inspired by Rosalind due to her post about the concentration camps during the British/Boer-War in the late 1800’s-early 1900’s…I’ve got a book about the concentration camps and it was so sad to read how those people were treated and the circumstances they lived in! My mum has had a relative – Dorie Burger – that was there and in this book she was also quoted where she mentioned who died again in the camp and how they were rationed on food and that the food wasn’t enough. According to her, many children were still hungry at night and couldn’t sleep due to insufficient food. You just feel like crying when you read the book!
Rosalind’s post also immediately reminded me about the Jews and the holocaust and my very own first English “story”-book… Anne Frank’s diary… as a birthday present when I was 12. My birthday is one day before Anne’s birthday – 12th June – and that made the book – as a child – even more special. I’ve always been interested in War-books, fiction as well as non-fiction. I’ve blogged before about other books written about wars…the Cambodian war… the war in Kosovo…Today, when you see the word “Holocaust” it usually refers to this time in which the German Army systematically killed nearly 6 million Jews. People need to learn about the Holocaust and the reasons why it happened. Some say it never happened at all, but we know it did because there are too many witnesses and survivors who lived to tell the world about those darkest of times.Click HERE to visit the site about Anne Frank and there’s a link to the museum.
This picture was taken on the 10th March 1933…. that means… Monday, 10th March…more than 70 years ago.
The movable book case
Anne Frank’s diary made into a musical…
from the Guardian newspaper:
It might not seem the most obvious material for a song-and-dance number, but the Diary of Anne Frank will take centre stage next month when a Spanish musical based on the most famous book about the Holocaust opens in Madrid.
Having been rewritten for films, plays and TV dramas, the story of the Jewish girl hiding out with her family in Nazi-occupied Amsterdam has never before been made as a musical. The Anne Frank Foundation, which jealously guards the rights to the diary – it once turned down Steven Spielberg when he wanted to make a film – has given its support. Jan Erik Dubbelman said: “This production respects the message of tolerance, within the tragedy, that we want to keep alive. Being in Spanish, it can also help to take the message of Anne Frank to Latin America.”The Spanish theatre group behind the musical has visited the tiny flat where Frank hid from the Nazis, seeking inspiration for their characters and performing some of the songs for members of the foundation. Isabella Castillo, a 13-year-old born in Cuba who has been chosen for the lead role, said she had been moved by the visit: “If you’re doing a musical of the family and how they lived and the house and everything, I think it’s very special, and a very important detail, to come to this house.”Frank wrote the diary while she and her family hid in a secret annexe behind a bookcase in a canal-side warehouse. For 25 months, she wrote down her experiences as a teenager – her love-hate relationship with her parents, spats with schoolfriends, crushes on film stars – while in the background the war raged outside. The family was betrayed and arrested in August 1944 and Frank died in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in March 1945. Her father Otto was the only one to survive, and returned to Amsterdam after the war, where he discovered that her diary had been saved. First published in Dutch in 1947, it went on to be translated into 60 languages and has sold more than 25m copies worldwide.Rafael Alvero, who developed the musical project, said it was the culmination of a decade’s efforts to gain the confidence of the foundation. He said the show would be inspirational, comparing Frank’s life story to a tragic opera.
“When I first came here they [the foundation] had this doubt, about how somebody can do a musical of a story like this,” said Alvero. “The thing we want to do is … through the music, to understand the story better,” he said.
Once the foundation had given its permission, the hunt for actors capable of mixing the sombre nature of the material with the high energy of a musical began. Castillo said she felt honoured to be playing such an important role, and that there were things the two had in common.
The Franks moved from Germany to Holland in 1933, when Anne was four. Castillo’s mother fled from Cuba when Isabella was young, and they lived in hiding in Belize before immigrating to Miami. Please click HERE for the original article about the musical.
Image: Gardenofpraise
Today if you visit the site of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp you can see a memorial to Anne Frank and her sister Margot.
This picture shows the streetside view of the building. Otto Frank’s offices were at the front of the building and the hiding place was at the rear.
The hiding place became known as the Secret Annex. It was located at 263 Prinsengracht. The Frank family would occupy two rooms on the first floor. A week later Mr. and Mrs. Van Pels and their son would move into the two rooms on the second floor. From Peter’s tiny room they could access the attic where food was stored. There was a small bathroom on the first floor. Images: gardenofpraise.com
This is what my book looks like…and the next book is a picture book which I’ve bought for my primary y5/6 kids… it’s really an easy book for them to understand Anne’s story.
This book is one of many on my bookshelf that I still need to finish reading…it’s about a gripping account of how a group of young children who, when forced into isolation by the Nazi occupation of their home town in Czechoslovakia, refused to be silenced and fought back by creating and circulating their own newspaper called Klepy (which means gossip). The “Underground Reporters” chronicles — the lives of the young people who contributed to the newspaper. On the blurb it says: “…They founded a secret newspaper that was to become an inspiration to the Jews of Budejovice, uniting them and giving them something to fight for and be proud of. These young people were the Underground Reporters and this is their story.”
This book seems to be a great book to read, I’ve just ordered it from Amazon. You can read the review I’ve found on the internet.
Review from this site:historicalnovelsociety.org/london-conference.htm
No Place for a Lady
Ann Harries
The thrilling and sweeping new novel from the award-winning author of
‘Manly Pursuits’
It is the turn of the twentieth century and war is razing the Boer Republics of South Africa to the ground. Kitchener’s army has intensified its most barbarous campaign: to burn down the homes of thousands of obstinate Boers, forcing a desperate migration to disease-ridden concentration camps. Yet the vastly outnumbered Boers still will not surrender to the British.
In the midst of these horrors is a group of women, each fighting their own battle. Sarah Palmer is an angelically pretty nurse who arrives from England with her madcap friend Louise. Their relationship is threatened when Sarah falls deeply in love with a sick Colonial trooper of humble origin as Louise cannot help but become painfully jealous of her friend’s natural magnetism and beauty. And then arrives the dynamic Englishwoman, Emily Hobhouse, who has come to bring succour to the destitute and dying women and children and to stir the consciences of Britain over the holocaust of the camps.
As their dramas unfold, so too does the history of the war. It was intended to be a quick annexation of the Boer Republics but it turned in to a protracted, savage conflict. Harries shows a depth of knowledge and compassion in her writing; the involvement of the blacks who were promised the vote if they joined the British side, and the injustices and deep inequalities in South Africa which lie at the heart of the story. ‘No Place for a Lady’ is historical fiction at its finest. Ann harries has drawn unforgettable characters and made the period with all its complexities come vividly alive. This is a thrilling, beautifully written, and utterly compelling novel.
Ann Harries was born and educated in Cape Town, where she worked in township schools and community centres. On moving to England she became active in the anti-apartheid movement. The author of the acclaimed Manly Pursuits, she divides her time between the Cotswolds and South Africa.
‘History is ingeniously rewritten in this witty and engaging novel.’
J.M. Coetzee
‘Outstanding…Funny, well observed and beautifully written.’
Sunday Times
‘Brilliantly funny and inventive…Enjoyable and vivid throughout… I haven’t turned any pages faster this year than I have turned these.’
Spectator
‘A hugely ambitious novel that takes on an impressive range of themes, from history, colonialism and racism to science, evolution, sexual repression and betrayal…Both an entertaining read and a richly evocative portrait of that era.’
Observer
Click here to see the game of Carlsen and Topalov on Susan Polgar’s site.
If you click on THIS LINK you can play through the games of the players of rounds played so far. Click on the name on the top-menu to see the rounds of a particular player.
Click HERE to read about Shirov/Aronian’s game.
Please click HERE to read more about Radjabov/Ivanchuk’s game…
and on THIS LINK about Anand/Leko’s game.
Wednesday is a day of rest…no games and the schedule for the rest of the week:
The Afrikaans Language Monument and Museum, Paarl, Cape Town
I love you….in Afrikaans…”Ek is lief vir jou”.. Read on Wikipediaabout this monument and onTHISlink there’s more info about it.Why Afrikaans is not an African language… and I agree 100% with the writer of this article.
Read on Wikipediamore about Afrikaans.
Afrikaans
Die taal wat ek liefhet
Afrikaans
Die taal wat ek praat
Afrikaans
Die taal waarin ek dink
Afrikaans
Die taal waarin ek droom
Afrikaans
Die taal van my hart
Afrikaans
Die taal wat ek koester
Vir nou en altyd
Afrikaans
Jy is myne
Afrkaans
Jy is nou
Afrikaans
Jy is besonders
Afrikaans
Jy is uniek
Afrikaans
Jy is getrou
Afrikaans:
My denke
My wese
My lewe!
~~Nikita~~
Dat alle liefde Dat alle liefde moet verlore gaan
en wegwaai in die wye lug,
waar hierdie dooie ster sy norse vlug
neem deur die stiltes van sy baan –
dit is die vrees, dit is die eensaamheid
wat my, geboe, met die hande krom
rondom die kersie van ons liefde, stom
laat skuil in kleinlike verlatenheid.
(deur: N.P. van Wyk Louw)
WAGHONDJIES (Jan F. Celliers)
Ek is hier, en Ma is hier,
Ons twee lê op Baas se baadjie.
Wie is jy?
Kom, loop verby,
Anders word ons knor ‘n daadjie –
Kry jou bene dalk ‘n hap.
Kry jou broekspyp dalk ‘n gaatjie.
Mooipraat? Nee, ons ken jou nie.
Weg jou hand en raak ons nie!
“Oppas,” het die baas gesê,
“Tot ek weer kom, hier bly lê.”
Op ons pootjies lê ons kop,
Maar ons hou jou darem dop.
Toe-oog slaap ons op die baadjie,
Maar ons loer nog deur ‘n gaatjie –
Een oor plat, en een oor op,
PAS-OP!!
Amanda Strydom, South African artist is having a conversation in Afrikaans with a Dutch TV/Radio presenter. Both of them understand one another!
Coenie de Villiers and Steve Hofmeyr singing Afrikaans
Spoken by great men:"Give me 20 divisions of American soldiers and I will breach Europe. Give me 15 consisting of Englishmen and I will advance to the borders of Berlin. Give me two divisions of those marvellous fighting Boers and I will remove Germany from the face of the earth." - Field Marshal Bernard L. Montgomery, Commander of the Allied Forces during WW2.
"The Americans fight for a free world, the English mostly for honour, glory and medals, the French and Canadians decide too late that they have to participate. The Italians are too scared to fight, the Russians have no choice. The Germans for their Fatherland. The Boers? Those sons of Bitches fight for the hell of it." American General, George 'Guts and Glory' Patton.
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Chessalee 