Surprise
This wind came by surprise
amid such motionless radiance,
in such a heat, sweat and brilliance.
They pulled the boats onto the shore;
The vacationers put on their shirts.
It was good. The idea of protection
underscored the fear of loss. Therefore
there was still something that could
be lost in this dry, golden summer.
The wind quietened down in the evening
and left behind the damp seaweed.
POEM BY KOSTAS KARIOTAKIS
LOVE
And I lived in darkness. And I was darkness.
And a ray shown on me
Her joyous face as fresh as dew
and I as the parched asphodel
and the awakening youth shook me
how my bitter lips smiled.
As if her eyes told me
I wasn’t a castaway anymore
and I was bent by tenderness
I who was turned into stone by grief
POEM BY NAPOLEO LAPATHIOTIS
POET
The drama of your life and art,
so insignificant and yet so deeply thought,
spending your mind’s magnificence
in futile, laughable diversions,
playing with words all day and night,
testing how to put them next to one another,
how to mix them and add music to them,
how to enclose your dreams in verse.
Such pain and struggle, such an agony
to mould and turn your sorrow into harmony
and knead it using all your craftiness
just to return it to the people,
truly I don’t know of any other drama
more important than your pain
the pain that longs be imprisoned in a cage
its space the alphabet of man.
And after you have played with rhymes
and words like little children in their games
and after you’ve diminished all your hope
and lost yourself among your memories
as soon as the regrets appear
when the moment comes to bow or not
you lift your cross along with all your treasure
and to Golgotha you stumble to be crucified!
[Ενότητα Το δίχτυ των ψυχών, II]
Αποδημητικά
Τα χείλη παραιτούνται απ’ τη φωνή,
Τους στυφούς φθόγγους.
Σωπαίνουν τα όργανα
Τα πνευστά και τα έγχορδα.
(Μέσα τους παρατείνεται η Μουσική,
Μια θάλασσα πολυφωνική πο’ ’χει σωπάσει.)
Μαζεύουν σωπασμένο αντίλαλο απ’ τ’ αδειανά κοχύλια,
Βαφή από μαραμένα ρόδα, διάφανη φεγγοβολή
Από το καθάριο αίμα τους, κι αλλάζουν
Τ’ άφωνα χείλη, γίνονται ασπασμοί
Στο πρόσωπό σου, στο σεπτό σου εικόνισμα.
Γίνονται ασπασμοί, γοργά φιλιά,
Αποδημητικά, αεικίνητα, σαν χελιδόνια.
Από τη συλλογή Το δίχτυ των ψυχών (1965) του Γιώργου Θέμελη
Οι ποιητές της Θεσσαλονίκης τον 20ό αιώνα και ως σήμερα (ανθολογία) / Γιώργος Θέμελης
LONG LISTED FOR THE 2023 GRIFFIN POETRY AWARDS
Furniture
When, finally, my discomfort intensified I shifted
to my other foot
on Such Street, yet my feet have ruined me for years;
so I stand at the street light that they won’t have any
way out anymore;
then, because of the crisis due to my sickness, I had
to pay attention to common things, but, in God’s
name, get rid of all these pins;
yet the worst of all was the waiting room where
I, the traveller, often lost myself and as I made
beautiful plans in darkness I felt totally useless
in the light, like the coffin maker who looks around
with worrying eyes
since each person dies at a different hour and Philip,
when he returned from Doomsday (it was perhaps true)
he brought back just a spittoon; I helped him with
my savings and
the good news starts when you accept, from early
in the morning, the upcoming night
until, quietly and methodically, using the craftiness
of many eons,
I kneeled. And let the others stumble on the furniture.
ANALOGY
Don’t take too long — he said to her — don’t
take too long. The grapevine leaves turn reddish
in the fall. The trees kneel before their shade.
Don’t take too long, this wind blows me along.
I get used to the distance. Pride gets tired.
It’s not even pride. The dusk is fading away.
Two lines of lampposts light the seashore.
Useless lights, pale, how useless!
I like them at night. Don’t take too long.
One tiredness signals to the other.
Silent analogy. I prefer them.
Γελωτοποιός
Και σαν να ξεφυλίζαμε τις σελίδες πορνοπεριοδικού
φτάσαμε στο σπίτι του γελωτοποιού. Τον βρήκαμε
με την πλάτη του στον τοίχο να σκέφτεται πόσο
σύντομη είναι η ζωή και πως ο καθένας δικαιώνονταν
μετά το θάνατό του.
Σε μια στιγμή παροξυσμού φτερά φυτρώσαν
στους ώμους του κι είπε, ‘ξέρω πώς να σας κάνω
να γελάσετε’, και δεν αμφιβάλαμε καθόλου αφού
κι ο βασιλιάς ποτέ δεν τον αμφισβήτησε, γι’αυτό
άλλωστε και τον πλήρωνε, εμείς όμως πάντοτε
αμφιβάλλαμε για το βασιλιά και τους λεκέδες
στο παντελόνι μας που μαρτυρούσαν απιστία, ώσπου
τελικά σηκώθηκε ο Υπεράνθρωπος και χαμογελώντας
αγκάλιασε το γελωτοποιό κι είπε, ‘αδερφέ μου, εσύ είσαι
ο εκλεκτός μου.’
Jester
As though going through the pages of a porno-magazine
we arrived at the house of the jester. With his back against
the wall he contemplated on how short life was and how
everyone was justified right after their death.
In a moment of paroxysm he grew wings and said,
‘I know how to make you laugh’, something we never
doubted. After all the king never doubted his creativity,
for this he hired him, however we always doubted
the king and the stains on our pants were witnesses
of infidelity, until finally He stood up, the Übermensch
and smiling at the jester He hugged him saying:
‘my brother, you are my chosen one.’
Tasos Livaditis – Poems, Volume II (Libros Libertad) is one of our ten #2023GriffinPoetryPrize longlisted collections. Congratulations!
Letter
Wished to write you a letter
to say I loved you
but soon I recalled
people don’t write letters anymore
grabbed the mobile
and texted that
I wanted to see
your playful eyes
turning on your phone
you appeared on the screen
with your laughing eyes
and you laughed, and laughed
and said that I was
an old school student
as I sent a kiss to you
from other side of the planet
YANNIS RITSOS-POEMS, Selected Books
Η Ελένη/Helen
Τα άλλα, σα να μην ήταν τίποτα — χάθηκαν. Άργος, Αθήνα, Σπάρτη,
Κόρινθος, Θήβα, Σικυών, — σκιές ονομάτων· τα μιλάω· ηχούν σαν βουλιαγμένα
μες στο ασυντέλεστο. Κάποιο χαμένο ευγενικό σκυλί στέκει
μπροστά στην προθήκη ενός φτηνού γαλατάδικου. Μια νέα περαστική το κοιτάζει·
αυτό δεν αποκρίνεται· η σκιά του απλώνεται στο πεζοδρόμιο μεγάλη.
Δεν έμαθα ποτέ μου το γιατί. Κι ούτε υπάρχει θαρρώ. Μένει μονάχα
αυτή η εξευτελιστική, εξαναγκασμένη (από ποιόν;) επιδοκιμασία
καθώς γνέφουμε «ναι» με το κεφάλι, σα να χαιρετούμε κάποιον
με απίστευτη δουλοφροσύνη, ενώ κανείς δεν περνάει, κανείς δεν είναι.
The other things are lost as if they never existed Argos Athens
Sparta
Corinth Thebes Sykion – shadows of names I pronounce and they
echo as if they are sunken
in the incomplete A stray well-bred little dog stands
before the window of a poor dairy A young woman passing by
looks at it
it doesn’t respond its shadow is spread on the sidewalk
enlarged
I never learned the reason I doubt it truly exists There remains
only that humiliating compulsive (from whom?) approval
like when we nod yes as if we greet someone
with incredible servitude although nobody goes by
nobody is there
Hellenic Canadian Literature 