Tasos Livaditis – Poems, Volume II


The Servant

       Suddenly I was always there in a way that, at a later time,

I couldn’t explain at all; a line of chairs, in two rows, was

in the street as if the celebration was over and I was as always

late; at that moment he leaned down but instead of grabbing

the coffee cup or my letter that fell, he lifted an old crayon case,

which of course I couldn’t accept since we buried it with him

and when he asked me for some money, I searched myself,

however who could be so prudent to have cash with him and

amid the nightmares, he threatened me with disclosing it; I

kneeled “no, no” I begged him, he was almost ready to do it

out loud

      in fact, perhaps, for this he chose such a humble job: to

serve him exactly at nine o’clock and return home on time.


Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume I


So it seems they were not all lost. The window

still looked out on a part of the city an available

part of the sky. The carpenter the builder

dangling off the scaffold they come closer again.

Then the nails the planks have another use

and the dream again the wall and the faint resurrection

and the sorrowful glory useful again reminding

those toothpicks in the small vest pocket

that so many years ago we had secretly taken

from the cheap restaurant one winter night.


Wheat Ears-Selected Poems

At the Metro

We held the same handrail

our hands touched

you smiled

movements of the vehicle

got us bumping on

and getting far from

each other, like our first dates

sometimes you hesitated

other times you dared

give yourself spontaneously

to the momentary passion

like now when the movement

of vehicle pushed you on me

and I felt the shape

of your body erotic sensation,

sudden elation I felt

as I discovered

the exquisite contour

of your left breast


Titos Patrikios – Selected Poems


It can’t accept death, it can’t accept death,

it can’t accept it; but you aren’t just a cell

that doesn’t know when you die

you aren’t a deer that only

shivers and keeps silent — you know it

and you choose it, and you don’t want it,

you don’t want it.

Yet Death arrives

through tiredness and love, through the wooden

plough of lost time, the withered paper bills of words,

through the legs of the chair that stand still

in the craters of poverty, through the man in

his raincoat, the shoeless wheat ears of rain,

through the sun’s holes, the stone and the bar of soap

from the steps that follow your steps

Death arrives

like the hand which brings the bread, the trains

that come through the curtains of midnight.

Death arrives — George, George.

A sea of blood covers us in the night.

George, a sea of blood on our faces,

in our mouths, in our nostrils.

George, do you hear me?

We who one hour ago didn’t know each other;

bring your faces closer,

light up, light up your faces, bring the fire,

bring your voices.

Do you hear me? Do you all hear me?

Death doesn’t drown us

doesn’t exhausts us —

march on, march on, do you all hear me?

No, I’m not that wireless radio that

brings back silence, I only

spit my last night coal

so long as we make it,

so long as we make it.

Speak, speak.

I’m okay; I’m saying to you, I’m okay.

We are next to each other.

Bring your hands, bring the fire.

Life can’t accept death, it can’t.


Διμήνι: Ο παλαιότερος νεολιθικός οικισμός της Ευρώπης


Μία από τις σημαντικότερες αρχαιολογικές ανακαλύψεις, που προκάλεσαν τον θαυμασμό όλης της Ευρώπης, και αποτελούν ως σήμερα τους αρχαιότερους ανακαλυφθέντες οικισμούς της νεολιθικής περιόδου στη Γηραιά Ήπειρο, βρίσκονται μία ανάσα από το κέντρο του Βόλου και περιμένουν περισσότερη ανάδειξη, αξιοποίηση και προβολή.

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