In a world of sound and fury, where the milk of human kindness and the qualities of mercy have gone sour, the mighty figure of the great Elizabethan dramatist, William Shakespeare, the Swan of Avon, master of them all, stands supreme as age has not wearied him nor the years condemned him to oblivion.

Yet, not a drum was heard, not a funeral note on his anniversary throughout this fair isle that, for the past two centuries, was blessed with his noble tongue. The little Shakespearean ripples I ruffled in February, lamenting the eclipse of the Bard, became faint echoes of tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow , fizzling out like a damp squib on a wet December night.

Once more into the breach, once more, I plead. Friends lend me your ears.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, a chosen few in an isle of fattened cows and drab philistines, an isle that, strangely and uneasily, wears the crown of European City of Culture, let us show our mettle in the coming days and make amends for this insult.

We have greatly snubbed this noble soul, myself not least, shirking his infinite knowledge as we strut the world stage of whichwe are players, urged by the Bard to play our parts.

He taught us the sweet uses of adversity and, in this hour, let us all rally to erect an artistic monument in his honour, siting it next to the great Italian giant Dante in the lush Floriana Garden accompanied also by our national poet, Dun Karm, three great literary figures that shaped our generation. In this tangible way, we will show the world that in tiny Malta his memory did not pass away unwept, unhonoured and unsung.

Sign up to our free newsletters

Get the best updates straight to your inbox:
Please select at least one mailing list.

You can unsubscribe at any time by clicking the link in the footer of our emails. We use Mailchimp as our marketing platform. By subscribing, you acknowledge that your information will be transferred to Mailchimp for processing.