Prieš 90 metų gimė garsus JAV poetas, 1968-ųjų Pulitzerio premijos už poeziją laureatas, 1982-1984 metų Kongreso biblioteko poetas laureatas Anthony Hechtas. Jis gimė Niujorke, Vokietijos žydų šeimoje. Mokėsi vienoje klasėje su Jacku Kerouacu. Tėvai jam, žinoma, buvo suplanavę advokato ar gydytojo karjerą, bet Anthony panoro tapti poetu. 1944-aisiais jis buvo paimtas į kariuomenę ir pateko į Europos mūšių laukus – kovėsi Čekijoje, Vokietijoje, tačiau jo požiūrį į gyvenimą pakeitusi ir daugumą poezijos temų nulėmusi aplinkybė buvo dalyvavimas Fliosenburgo koncentracijos stovyklos išlaisvinime.
Anthony turėjo apklausti išlikusius gyvuosius ir surinkti įrodymus. „Ta vieta, tos kančios, tie pasakojimai buvo už mano suvokimo ribų. Dar daugelį metų prabusdavau klykdamas“, – vėliau apie tai rašė poetas.
Pirmoji jo poezijos knyga „A Summoning of Stones“ (Kviesdamas akmenis) išėjo 1954-aisiais. Daug jo eilėraščių – karo ir Holokausto siaubo liudijimai.
More Light! More Light!
For Heinrich Blucher and Hannah Arendt
Composed in the Tower before his execution
These moving verses, and being brought at that time
Painfully to the stake, submitted, declaring thus:
„I implore my God to witness that I have made no crime.“
Nor was he forsaken of courage, but the death was horrible,
The sack of gunpowder failing to ignite.
His legs were blistered sticks on which the black sap
Bubbled and burst as he howled for the Kindly Light.
And that was but one, and by no means one of he worst;
Permitted at least his pitiful dignity;
And such as were by made prayers in the name of Christ,
That shall judge all men, for his soul’s tranquility.
We move now to outside a German wood.
Three men are there commanded to dig a hole
In which the two Jews are ordered to lie down
And be buried alive by the third, who is a Pole.
Not light from the shrine at Weimar beyond the hill
Nor light from heaven appeared. But he did refuse.
A Luger settled back deeply in its glove.
He was ordered to change places with the Jews.
Much casual death had drained away their souls.
The thick dirt mounted toward the quivering chin.
When only the head was exposed the order came
To dig him out again and to get back in.
No light, no light in the blue Polish eye.
When he finished a riding boot packed down the earth.
The Luger hovered lightly in its glove.
He was shot in the belly and in three hours bled to death.
No prayers or incense rose up in those hours
Which grew to be years, and every day came mute
Ghosts from the ovens, sifting through crisp air,
And settled upon his eyes in a black soot.
Štai čia Tomo Venclovos vieno eilėraščio vertimas:
http://www.satenai.lt/?p=10321
Prieš 408 metus Madride pasirodė pirmasis Miguelio de Cervantes Saavedros didžiojo romano „El ingenioso hidalgo don Quijote de la Mancha“ pirmasis tomas.