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Canadian and
German Literature |
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King
Mob We threw the yoke of yesteryears Onto a heap of stones, And dragged the tyrants and their peers With huzza from their thrones. We tore the sceptre from their hands With great acclaim and sneers, We chased the despots from our lands Amid a howl of jeers. Yet barely was our freedom won When out of every cleft, King Mob’s disciples one by one, Came creeping right and left. They took the reins, and they were bold, Their tenets soon prevailed, A yoke more crushing than the old Is being blithely hailed. |
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Say what you want, But woe to you, If what you say is true. The notion of democracy Resembles Sodom’s apples. On the surface crisp and alluring, Inside all ashes. Ignorance is like a running sore. Hated, yet petted even more. Remorse has two sides. One is worm-eaten, The other full of mites. |
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He who struggles with emotions Lacks the strength for deeds. Pretty is the world if seen Through eyes of contentment. Even prettier when seen Through eyes of joy. Here is a riddle of a perplexing sort. Has the master created the servant, Or did the servant create the lord. Marriage and age Tame beast and man I prefer hay to gold The donkey says. |
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Books
that take the reader on a vicarious journey through the vast region of
Canada; a singular country, still
wild and untamed. Where the midnight
sun transforms the tundra into a carpet of flaming colours in July, and calls to life unfettered
voices that enliven the spirit. He will also gain insight to the Caribbean Islands, home of smiles
and guileless mirth. In Haiti, an island
shrouded in mystery, where the Walking Dead once, perhaps
still, cultivate the fields. Even
a more arcane episode takes place in the region of Yanomamo, Venezuela, at
the foot of the Orinoco
River, where Indians live like in ancient
times. The
wilderness of Canada, always close to the author’s heart, possessing a magic
of its own, is prominently
depicted. |
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Call to battle |
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Hurray the fight is on |
