holden_caulfield

DAILY HOLDEN-O-METER: Holden. . .officiated his first baseball game in over a year, behind the plate no less. It turned out pretty well--no gaffes to speak of--and another $50 in Holden's pocket. The Washtenaw Community College (WCC) team beat the Tigers 7-3 in 7 innings. Holden's next baseball games to officiate are in late October (brrr), unless he gets a call to sub.

Holden was able to read all 294 pages of All Quiet on the Western Front in five hours on Friday. He survived his little quiz, missing a few questions but getting most of them right. Holden must read Seven Gothic Tales for next week.

Walking was tiring today, resulting in a nap, probably because Holden peeled off his sweaty officiating uniform and didn't hydrate himself properly before walking, all to be able to listen to the right program on NPR. Sigh.

Well, if you have read this far, and you're on Holden's friends list (or you remembered to wish Holden a Happy Birthday recently), please step up to the plate and be one of the first five to request your free--absolutely no obligation--Gmail (Google) e-mail account. Holden has five invites to spare.

Should you be one of the first five to request this in Holden's journal. . .that should be obvious enough. . .be sure to drop him an e-mail through SG. . .because he'll be needing it to set you up.


My Current Literary Contribution:



Gustavo Adolfo Bcquer, 1836-1871(?)
(born G.A. Domnguez Bastida)


Rima XI
por Gustavo Adolfo Bcquer

Yo soy ardiente, yo soy morena,
yo soy el smbolo de la pasin,
de ansia de goces mi alma est llena.
A m me buscas?
No es a ti, no.

Mi frente es plida, mis trenzas de oro:
puedo brindarte dichas sin fin,
yo de ternura guardo un tesoro.
A m me llamas?
No, no es a ti.

Yo soy un sueo, un imposible,
vano fantasma de niebla y luz;
soy incorprea, soy intangible:
no puedo amarte.
Oh ven, ven t!


"Holden's Translation" (Please be aware that literary translation takes many years of study. Since I couldn't find a translation on the Internet, this will have to do for now):

Rhyme XI
by Gustavo Adolfo Bcquer

I am burning, I am brunette,
I am the symbol of passion,
My soul is full of anxious yearning.
Do you seek me?
No, not you.

My face is fair; by braids, of gold:
I can give you endless riches,
From my tenderness I guard a treasure.
Are you calling me?
No, not you.

I am a dream, an impossibility,
vain ghost of fog and light;
I am incorporal, I am intangible:
I cannot love you.
Oh, come, please come!