Wednesday, April 02, 2025
POEM - A TIME TO DIE
BY DONOVAN BALDWIN
"The notary was present, and he said that he'd never read in any book of chivalry that a knight errant had died in his bed so calmly, and in such a Christian way as don Quixote, who, amidst pity and tears of those surrounding him, gave up the ghost; that is, he died."
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| Don Quixote On His Deeathbed |
"The notary was present, and he said that he'd never read in any book of chivalry that a knight errant had died in his bed so calmly, and in such a Christian way as don Quixote, who, amidst pity and tears of those surrounding him, gave up the ghost; that is, he died."
- 'Don Quixote' by Miguel de Cervantes
A Time To Die
Call when morning's blossom
Lingers still before my eyes,
Or when I've touched my neighbor;
At that time let me die.
Show me roses in a garden, or
Fields stretched beneath the snow,
Catch me dreaming, maybe singing,
I'll be prepared to go.
Don't come when hate surrounds me, or
Simply take me as I sleep.
At the moment of my leaving,
Give me one fine thing to keep.
Copyright: Donovan Baldwin
A Time To Die
Call when morning's blossom
Lingers still before my eyes,
Or when I've touched my neighbor;
At that time let me die.
Show me roses in a garden, or
Fields stretched beneath the snow,
Catch me dreaming, maybe singing,
I'll be prepared to go.
Don't come when hate surrounds me, or
Simply take me as I sleep.
At the moment of my leaving,
Give me one fine thing to keep.
Copyright: Donovan Baldwin
SPONSORED BY REVITOL SKINCARE PRODUCTS
Labels: death, Don Quixote, donovan baldwin, Miguel de Cervantes, poem, poem about death, poetry
Sunday, January 26, 2025
ESSAY - BREAKFAST, MR. BASCLE, AND DON QUIXOTE
For a while, in high school, I rode to school with a friend, Mike B his dad, "Frenchie" driving us in his T-Bird.
I would walk to their house on Bayshore Drive, in Warrington, and wait in what I always thought of as "the library", while they finished breakfast and got ready.
One morning I pulled down Don Quixote, by Cervantes, and started reading. Only a few pages a day, but, over several days, I finished it, and was hooked, on Don Quixote.
One morning, Frenchie, "Mr. B" to me in those days, asked if I wanted some French toast. I had never even heard of French toast, and asked him how it was made. Once he described it, I really didn't want it, but, to be polite, I said I'd try some.
Wow! I'm still a bacon and eggs, grits and toast for breakfast guy, but, once in a while, I order French toast, and remember being a teenage boy in Mr. Bascle's house, on sleepy Bayshore Drive, eating French toast and reading Don Quixote.
By the way, Frenchie, wherever you are, I've never had better French Toast than yours.
SPONSORED BY REVITOL SKINCARE PRODUCTS
Labels: breakfast., Don Quixote, donovan baldwin, essay, french toast
