For some time now, I ve been trying to write a(nother) review... as usual, couldn't find enuf time to complete it... So, tot ll get back to postin oder stuff... N the review ll follow soon(er or later ;) )...
April has always been an awessum month. Apart from the personal value it has got for me, and the fact that the first day s fulla unforgettable pranks, it has always been the "vacation month", somethin that irrefutably makes it the best! :D (Of course, May is also part of the summer vac, but wen at school, by the time May sauntered into existence, we d ve got tired of the holidays n wud greet every frnd wid an "Im so bored", n start longin for school again... ). N yes, I could also quote Shakespeare on April, but lets skip the obvious...
April is also the month of a few great birthdays (:P), starting from Sophie Germain (mathematician) to Jackie Chan and Pandit Ravi Shankar, and Prophet Mohammad, to ChandraBabu Naidu and Adolf Hitler... There is more to comment on the similarities and difrnzes between these ppl etc. However, it would only sound like the "distinguish between"s that we fill our papers wid... so lets skip that too...
The fact that i want to throw light on is the life of a particular great person whose b'day is seven days from now.
On the 7th of April, years ago, a man was born, a genius of an intransigent mind, and probably infinite talent; a highly egotistical and self absorbed man; not a loner per se, but someone absorbed in an intriguing solitude; (very typical of geniuses, eh?) a man whose eyes sparkled with intelligence and pride, but one who had time to observe the tiny details and pen some of the most beautiful romantic (I mean romanticism and not mushy poems!) literature one can ever read... On April 7, 1770, William Wordsworth, the poet who wrote some of the most beautiful English verses, and launched the Romantic Movement, was born in England. And more than 2 centuries later, he lives on in those innumerable dog-eared poetry books (and the webpages, of course!) With Nittfest round the corner, I may not find time to post somethin on him next week... N hence, with a week to go for April 7, I remember him in advance. Wat follows is a short recap of his verses, ones that i found the most memorable and beautiful...
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance...
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more...
The world is too much with us;
(The world is too much with us)
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
(Ode on intimations of immortality)
And of course, the truly immortal ones.....
My voice proclaims
How exquisitely the individual Mind
(And the progressive powers perhaps no less
Of the whole species) to the external World
Is fitted:--and how exquisitely, too,
Theme this but little heard of among Men,
The external World is fitted to the Mind . . .
(Prospectus to the Recluse)
(P.S:- I found a very interesting discussion on wordsworth at the foll link... chk it out!!! -