De Fins-Zweedse dichter en schrijver Johan Ludvig Runeberg werd geboren op 5 februari 1804 in Jakobstad. Zie ook mijn blog van 5 februari 2009 en ook mijn blog van 5 februari 2010.
Uit: Sven Duva (Fragment, vertaald door Judy Moffett)
His father, once a sergeant, was poor and old and gray,
For he had fought in ‘eighty-eight, was old then, you might say.
And now he farmed a bit of ground his daily bread to gain
And had around him children nine, the youngest one was Sven.
That old man Duva had himself enough of brains to share
Among a brood as large as his, one hardly could declare.
He surely gave the elder ones too much of his small wit.
For to the son that last was born was left the tiniest bit.
Sven Duva grew up just the same, was strong and broad of chest.
Toiled like a slave in field or wood with unremitting zest.
Was willing, gay, and kind of heart, far more than clever folk,
^Would turn his hand to anything, but was in all a joke.
“In gracious heaven’s name, poor son, what can you ever be?”
The old man often said to him in sad perplexity.
But when such talk would never end, Sven Duva’s patience failed.
At last he set his head to work for all that it availed.
So one tine day it chanced when Sergeant Duva cooed again
The old unanswered song: ” What will become of you, my Sven ?”
The old man started backward in astonishment, because
“I’ll be a soldier,” said the son, and spread his uncouth jaws.
Johan Ludvig Runeberg (5 februari 1804 – 6 mei 1877)
Standbeeld in Helsinki
Doorgaan met het lezen van “Johan Ludvig Runeberg, Henriette Hardenberg, Albert Paris Gütersloh, Madame de Sévigné, Honorat de Bueil, Sandra Paretti, Reto Finger”