Detta tycker jag är en sådan där liten kort text som kan vara perfekt en sådan där dag när man känner sig lite däven och ensam. Egentligen är man aldrig det.
De två sista raderna är ju dessutom välkända – kanske mest tack vare Hemingways roman For whom the bell tolls – men här är originalet, sisådär 400 år tidigare…
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No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
John Donne
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Stories from the city, stories from the sea 