zaterdag 5 maart 2011

Anja Meulenbelt van de SP


Anja Meulenbelt
:: Weblog

zaterdag 5 maart 2011

Het beloofde land? Lezingen vanuit de drie heilige boeken


Anja Meulenbelt, er zijn geen heilige boeken 'for everything that lives is holy, life delights in life,' 

William Blake. 

Waarom vraag je als volksvertegenwoordiger niet naar het rapport van de AIV dat aan minister Rosenthal is gestuurd? Waarom blijf je zwijgen hierover? Kom nu eens als parlementslid voor de SP op voor de Palestijnse zaak.

Zie: http://stanvanhoucke.blogspot.com/2011/03/uri-rosenthal-een-nederlandse-minister_04.html

A Song of Liberty.

1. The Eternal Female groan'd! it was heard over all the Earth:
2. Albion's coast is sick silent; the American meadows faint!
3 Shadows of Prophecy shiver along by the lakes and the rivers and mutter across the ocean: France, rend down thy dungeon;
4. Golden Spain, burst the barriers of old Rome;
5. Cast thy keys, O Rome, into the deep down falling, even to eternity down falling,
6. And weep!
7. In her trembling hands she took the new born terror howling;
8. On those infinite mountains of light, now barr'd out by the atlantic sea, the new born fire stood before the starry king!
9. Flag'd with grey brow'd snows and thunderous visages, the jealous wings wav'd over the deep.
10. The speary hand burned aloft, unbuckled was the shield; forth went the hand of jealousy among the flaming hair, and hurl'd the new born wonder thro' the starry night.
11. The fire, the fire, is falling!
12. Look up! look up! O citizen of London, enlarge thy countenance: O Jew, leave counting gold! return to thy oil and wine. O African! black African! (go, winged thought widen his forehead.)
13. The fiery limbs, the flaming hair, shot like the sinking sun into the western sea.
14. Wak'd from his eternal sleep, the hoary element roaring fled away:
15. Down rush'd, beating his wings in vain, the jealous king; his grey brow'd councellors, thunderous warriors, curl'd veterans, among helms, and shields, and chariots horses, elephants: banners, castles, slings and rocks,
16. Falling, rushing, ruining! buried in the ruins, on Urthona's dens;
17. All night beneath the ruins, then, their sullen flames faded, emerge round the gloomy King.
18. With thunder and fire: leading his starry hosts thro' the waste wilderness, he promulgates his ten commands, glancing his beamy eyelids over the deep in dark dismay,
19. Where the son of fire in his eastern cloud, while the morning plumes her golden breast,
20. Spurning the clouds written with curses, stamps the stony law to dust, loosing the eternal horses from the dens of night, crying:
Empire is no more! and now the lion & wolf shall cease.

Chorus.

Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn, no longer in deadly black, with hoarse note curse the sons of joy. Nor his accepted brethren, whom, tyrant, he calls free: lay the bound or build the roof. Nor pale religious letchery call that virginity, that wishes but acts not!
For every thing that lives is Holy.

2 opmerkingen:

Ron zei

Onnozel natuurlijk, enig belang hechten aan "heilige" boeken. Aardige vrouw ,Anja,maar een beetje eenvoudig.Ze zal zixhzelf echter zien als geangageerd intellectueel.

Ron zei

....Geengageerd....

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