Having retired some time ago after 52 years in the sugar industry, including working closely with Governments and regional institutions along the way, if there is one thing I have learned it is the extreme frailty of all grand plans.
Some of the most vivid poems in the world are written on a huge rock in a remote forest in Sri Lanka.
It is good to be touched by perfection even if one is the victim of it.
When I was a student at Cambridge ages and ages ago we were made aware that the Preamble to the 1359 Statutes of Clare College, where I was resident, bid us members of the College “to preserve the precious pearl of learning.”
I find it hard to understand why most people never, literally never, read poetry.
One of the tragic, eternal facts of human life is that there will always be wars – some the hideous, misguided choice of evil men and some “wars of necessity” but war all the same since the horror and indiscriminate agony caused by war is not changed by what designation war is given.
There are some things that keep out the darkness that continually threatens in anyone’s life.
I remember “Read to Succeed” was once the theme of the activities and exhibitions organized to celebrate the work of library services for the children of Guyana.
In any given situation we assume that people, including ourselves, will act sensibly.
Someone read a column of mine and meeting me asked very sincerely What is the practical value of Poetry, Ian?
A child who develops a love of reading wins a prize that will last and last until the end of life.
They have become an inspiring part of Guyana’s poetic heritage I found them instantly unforgettable.
Three quarters of the latest year has passed away. This seems astonishing to me.
In honour of Sir Shridath Ramphal whose ashes were laid to rest at the Garden of the Seven Ponds last week this Column is dedicated.
“What the earth swallows is soon forgotten.” In his era, A.E.
As I get older, and the older I get the faster I seem to get older, I find myself regretting all the wonders and miraculous developments I read about and feel that I will miss as time goes on beyond my passing.
In honour of Sonny Ramphal, most memorable of West Indians I reproduce a column I wrote about him some time ago.
This Sunday how could I not write a few – bound to be inadequate – words about Dave.
In Geoff Dyer’s interesting book “The Last Days Of Roger Federer and Other Endings” people getting old are warned against the risk of being “reduced to letting the clock go round.”
Gordon ‘Gig’ Delph was an old friend well remembered. I knew him from my tennis-playing days.
The ePaper edition, on the Web & in stores for Android, iPhone & iPad.
Included free with your web subscription. Learn more.
