Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Selected Books, Volume II, Second Edition


Alexis was quiet

like one who always completes his task.

When he lay down he fell asleep at once

like one who has completed his task.

Two thick soiled shoes

stayed out of the blanket

then big plane trees and eucalyptuses

grew in his toenails.

When we called his name

it was as if we said tomorrow will be sunny.

How quiet you were, Alexis

they woke you up in the night

you didn’t have time to tie your bag

didn’t have time to tie the laces of your boots. We noticed

you passed the opening of the tent,

one of your laces dragged on the soil. We feared

that you may trip, comrade. You sensed it

and smiled. We smiled too.

Ah, yes, it wasn’t the fear that you could trip

you never tripped in your life;

you passed the tent opening

and it became silence with many clouds.

Your comb and a piece of bread left

on top of your wooden bed and

that untied bootlace was still dragging

as sorrow drags in our souls. We weren’t afraid.

They took you, comrade, to military court

and from there for execution

so that from there  you could return   

to all the hearts, to the whole of life,

to all the eyes, to all the trees, comrade.

For this you feel so saddened

so certain

so joyous —

a star flickers in your eyes

this red star that will never forget of us.

Today you became more of a comrade, comrade.

Take along our two last cigarettes

we don’t have any left, only our hearts, comrade

take our two cigarettes

one for you and one for Hades:

light them together, with one match beside the great wall

where you will talk like two true men

about yesterday’s parades

about the future parades

about the duties of the socialists

about the universal freedom

you will talk peacefully

you and Hades

like two old men from Nafplion

until you finish your cigarette

until you hear the salvo

stopping your conversation

and your heart half way.

You know it, nothing can be lost

comrades will carry on with your duty and your work

rest assured

rest assured

go in peace and be joyous.

And we’re joyous too, comrade, look at us:

we aren’t crying.

No, comrade are crying, we don’t hide it

because we are socialists and we love you, comrade

and we’ll miss you from our struggle, we’ll miss you.

Despite of how you still exist close to us, we’ll miss you;

we’ll miss your eyes, like two light-blue windows

opened at the end of the dark hallway

we’ll miss your smile which

resembles a flag on the neighbourhood balcony

and your hands, strong and timid

which had a hasty and silent movement

as if gluing the Revolution poster on a wall at midnight.

We feel embittered comrade, we don’t hide it

and the Party feels embittered, as it looks austere and


and today the Party is more austere, so it won’t cry,


as it tidies the spotless party identification papers

on the list of heroes of the Populace Struggle.

Today you became a comrade, comrade

we all became comrades, comrade.

Good bye comrade. Rest in peace

having your boots on, with the untied lace

peaceful like one who has completed his task

peaceful, don’t be afraid, comrade

we’ll complete our task too.


Wheat Ears – Selected Poems


The years I risked

under the spell of the moon

for that lone kiss

March daffodils swaying

autumn chrysanthemums blushing

desire bloomed and

now at the edge

of the train platform

a step forward defines

an opportunity left behind

as I try to grasp the purpose

of my life based on speed

of passing time as I stand

opposite the melancholy  

of eternal understanding

no more train whistles

just dust and that

lost kiss


Alfonsina Storni, Τρία ποιήματα

To Koskino


Μάλιστα, εγώ κινούμαι, ζω, σφάλλω,
νερό που κυλά κι αναμειγνύεται, νιώθω
τον άγριο ίλιγγο της κίνησης:
μυρίζω τη βλάστηση, καινούργια χώματα ακουμπώ.

Μάλιστα, εγώ κινούμαι, και όλο γυρεύω
Ήλιους, χαραυγές, καταιγίδες και λήθη.
εσύ τι κάνεις εκεί, χλωμός και μίζερος;
είσαι η πέτρα που από δίπλα της περνώ.



Άκου: εγώ ήμουν σα θάλασσα κοιμώμενη.
Με ξύπνησες κι έχει ξεσπάσει η θύελλα.
Αναταράζω τα κύματά μου, βουλιάζω τα καράβια μου,
στον ουρανό υψώνομαι και τ΄ άστρα τιμωρώ,
ντρέπομαι και κρύβω μέσα τις ρυτίδες μου,
παραφρονώ και σκοτώνω τα ψάρια μου.
Μη με κοιτάς φοβισμένος. Εσύ το έχεις θελήσει.



Ζω μέσα σε τέσσερις μαθηματικούς τοίχους
τετραγωνισμένυς στο μέτρο. Με κυκλώνουν απαθείς
κορσέδες που δεν έχουν την παραμικρή ιδέα
από τούτο το γαλάζιο πυρετό που τη χίμαιρά μου θρέφει.

Χρησιμοποιώ ένα πρόσθετο δέρμα χαράζοντάς του ρίγες γκρι.
κοράκι που φυλάγει κάτω απ’…

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Γιώργος Θέμελης, Όραμα

Βίκυ Παπαπροδρόμου: ό,τι πολύ αγάπησα (ποίηση, πεζογραφία & μουσική)

Franz Schubert, Ave Maria (με τη Νάνα Μούσχουρη)

[Ενότητα Συμπτώσεις]


Μιας μαθήτριας την ώρα της πρωινής προσευχής.

— Στο «Χαίρε, Μαρία» μου κόπηκε η φωνή.
Μπήκαν και στάθηκαν μπροστά μου
Σηκώνοντας τα σακατεμένα τους φτερά:
— «Δεν είμαστε πια», μου ’παν,
«Είμαστε στον πόλεμο
Και μας πυροβολούν κι εμάς
Και μας σκοτώνουν…»

— Έκλαιγα μέσα μου και φώναζα: «ως πότε, ως πότε…»

Κανείς δεν μ’ άκουγε, μονάχα Εκείνοι,
Και δάκρυζαν κρυφά σαν τις εικόνες.
Άστρα σβηστά πέφταν τα δάκρυα.

— «Άνοιξε», μου ’παν, «την κλειστή φωνή σου, μίλησε,
Και πες στους πάντας να προσεύχονται.

Πίσω απ’ την ταφή και τον θάνατο θ’ αρχίσει να φέγγει.»

Από τη συλλογή Συνομιλίες (1953) του Γιώργου Θέμελη

Οι ποιητές της Θεσσαλονίκης τον 20ό αιώνα και ως σήμερα (ανθολογία) / Γιώργος Θέμελης

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