- published: 20 Jan 2013
- views: 2617
Jan Kenneth Eliasson (born 17 September 1940) is a Swedish diplomat who has been Deputy Secretary-General of the United Nations since 1 July 2012. A member of the Swedish Social Democratic Party, Eliasson served as Minister for Foreign Affairs from 24 April to 6 October 2006.
Jan Eliasson was born in a working-class family in Gothenburg. He was an AFS exchange student in Indiana, United States, from 1957 to 1958 and was commissioned a naval officer in the reserve after training at the Royal Swedish Naval College (Kungliga Sjökrigsskolan) in 1962. In 1965 he earned a master's degree in economics from the School of Business, Economics and Law at the University of Gothenburg where he was also a president of the local AIESEC committee. He also holds honorary degrees from American University (1994), University of Gothenburg (2001) and Uppsala University (2005).
Eliasson has authored and co-authored numerous books and articles and is a frequent lecturer on foreign policy and diplomacy. Since 1988 he has been a visiting lecturer on mediation, conflict resolution and UN reform at Uppsala University.
It looks just like an old man and his old wife
Havin’ lunch in the food court at the mall
He stumbles twice, she holds on tight
And he’s embarrassed cuz he almost falls
It looks just like the sad end of a long life
But that ain’t it at all
What it really is is a boy home from world war two
One leg pinned up on his uniform
Tryin’ not to cry as he spit shines one black shoe
Scared she won’t love him anymore
What it really is is the smile on her pretty young face
As he crutches down the gang plank and that kiss
That’s burned from that day to this
That’s what it really is
It looks just like a small town around twilight
And a couple pushin’ a stroller up the street
They stop a while and the neighbors smile
At the baby’s pretty little hands and feet
It looks just like just another brand new life
But that picture ain’t complete
Cuz what it really is is one expert after another
Breakin’ their hearts month after month
Tellin’ her that she will never be a mother
And him that he will never hold a son
And what it really is is a waiting room and tears of joy
As he walks in with a little boy all his
His finger wrapped in a tiny little fist
That’s what it really is
So much of what this life can be
All depends on what you see
It looks just like a long line of headlights
Rolling slowly down a rainy country road
A small casket white, a cold, windy graveside
And a family with such a heavy load
It looks just like the sad end of a short life
But the truth be told
What it really is is the first breath she’s ever taken
That made her feel like she could fly
The grey skies above and the chains finally breakin’
And tellin’ the pain goodbye
What it really is is running to her Savior’s side
In a body glorified in bliss
As she slips her little hand into His