Het is weekend. Vier het leven.

Red knights, brown bishops, bright queens,
Striking the board, falling in strong 'L's of
colour.
Reaching and striking in angles,
holding lines in one colour.
This board is alive with light;
these pieces are living in form,
Their moves break and reform the pattern:
luminous green from the rooks,
Clashing with 'X's of queens,
looped with the knight-leaps.

'Y' pawns, cleaving, embanking!
Whirl ! Centripetal ! Mate ! King down in the
vortex,
Clash, leaping of bands, straight strips of hard
colour,
Blocked lights working in. Escapes. Renewal of
contest.
Prettig weekend. En be nice.

Het is weekend. Pacta sunt servanda. Maar wat is een pact en wat niet en wie niet en hoe niet.

I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman -
I have detested you long enough.
I come to you as a grown child
Who has had a pig-headed father;
I am old enough now to make friends.
It was you that broke the new wood,
Now is a time for carving.
We have one sap and one root -
Let there be commerce between us.
Prettig weekend. En be nice.