 |
 |
Dear Susanne, Don't know who wrote the poem but it must be a translation. It's a funny looking sonnet. I hope you're joking about coming to see me. My favorite tribe, the Kogi, ask "When are you leaving?" as soon as you arrive. In the 6 years I've been here one person has come from Ireland to see me. It's been hectic. All the best, Mairead On Thu, 6 Jul 2000, susanne wrote: > Susanne wrote: > > > You will oblige me very much if you will write to me and tell what you > > > think. > > > I shall read your letter with great anxiety. > > > Mairead replied: > ......will give you some idea of the alacrity with > > which I would attend the garden fete did not 4,000 miles and suit problems > > intervene. > > > > Susanne says: > > Ah, Marianne-Mairead, you and only you deserve these lines: > > ....... > > O flesh, O blood, O wood, > O utmost pain, may you atone for my sin, > in which I was born, as was my father before me. > > You alone are good: may your supreme mercy > come to the help of this malignant state > so close to death and yet so far from God. > > (sonnet, c. 1533) By whom? > > Could I come to see you in Ithaca? > Zusssssssssssssss > %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%