>Sorting through a heap that was thrown into the closet when moving in, I found my old „Poesiealbum“ (English translations that I found are „poetry album“ or „fiendship books“, though the Wiki description of the latter means something different from what I mean).
Many people who wrote into it, I have not seen for years or they are already dead, so it was like looking back into a different time which made me at first very sad (why does everything look back to always seem so much more „golden“ than present times? *g*)and then when I had passed that sentimental stage, it made me smile and recall all the good times or funny moments with those people who had been literally buried in the book and in my closet.
I want to share what my first English teacher wrote in that booklet. He has kindled the spark to get a liking to the English language which his later successors never managed to quench, no matter how hard they tried with their way of teaching. >=< Without the first impression that English is fun or even beautiful, I wouldn't be writing here now...
This is what he wrote for me:
Routine (Arthur Guiterman)
No matter what we are and who,
Some duties everyone must do:
A poet puts aside his wreath
To wash his face and brush his teeth,
And even Earls
must comb their curls,
And even kings
have underthings.
I doubt I understood it back then, this was 19 years ago (feels oooold), but the motto of the little poem kinda accompagnied me through life indeed, for indeed we all are just human, no matter if being royalty or ordinary people. I was never impressed with someone who had a big and important title, name, whatever, if the personality was not matching it.
…Goes to dig deeper into a pile of papers from the past…
