Tasos Livaditis//Τάσος Λειβαδίτης

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ΤΗΝ ΠΡΩΤΗ νύχτα ήταν ακόμα φτωχός, “Κύριε” του λέω
φυσικά δεν είχα άλλους συγγενείς κι έπρεπε να τον φροντίσω
“είμαι ο νέος συγκάτοικος” είπε, για να μη δείξει πως ξέρει,
σήκωσα τότε με ταπεινοφροσύνη την πέτρα και την ακούμπησα
απαλά, μη μας το πάρει ο αέρας, «σε περιμένει η Μαρία» του λέω
μα εκείνη στεκόταν λυπημένη πίσω του, γιατί δε θα γνώριζε ποτέ
το Θεό, αφού τον έφερνε κιόλας μέσα της κι όταν φάνηκαν οι τρεις
γυναίκες τους έδειξα τον τάφο, απ’ όπου έβρισκε πάντα τον τρόπο
να βγαίνει, είχαν αρχίσει, μάλιστα, να μυρίζουν τα ροδόδεντρα
και στη στροφή του δρόμου, πάνω απ’ τη σπασμένη στάμνα,
η μικρή υπηρέτρια δεν έκλαιγε πια.
Αυτό ήταν το πρώτο θαύμα.
THE FIRST night he was still poor “Sir” I told him since
of course I had no other relatives I had to take care of him “I am
the new roommate” he said just to conceal that he knew; then
with humility I raised the rock and I placed it down softly that
the air wouldn’t blow it away “Maria is waiting for you” I said
to him but she sorrowfully stood behind him because she would
never get to know God since she already carried Him inside her
and when the three women appeared I showed them the tomb from
where he always knew how to escape in fact the rhododendrons
had bloomed and at the turn of the road over the broken pitcher
the young servant girl wasn’t crying anymore.
This was the first miracle.
~Τάσου Λειβαδίτη-Εκλεγμένα Ποιήματα/Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη
~Tasos Livaditis-Selected Poems/Translated by Manolis Aligizakis
http://www.libroslibertad.ca

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Tasos Livaditis//Τάσος Λειβαδίτης

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Ο ΑΤΕΛΕΙΩΤΟΣ πυρετός των δρόμων, οι μεγάλες απόπνοιες απ’
τις πυρκαγιές,
και πάλι παλιές διηγήσεις, ενώ το ήρεμο αδράχτι των γυναικών
οδηγούσε μυστικά τις ώρες. Κανείς δε μας αναγνώρισε όταν γυρί-
σαμε,
καθίσαμε κι εμείς μες στην ανωνυμία μας, σαν τον ξυλοκόπο
μες στη συγνώμη των δέντρων, ώσπου σιγα σιγά μας ξέχασαν,
δεν είχαμε ούτε όνομα, ούτε προσδοκία. Όπως τ’ αγάλματα είναι
αθάνατα,
συντηρώντας μια θνητή μας ώρα.

 

THE ENDLESS fever of the roads the strong smell emitted

 

by conflagrations
and again the old stories, while the women’s serene spindle
secretly guided the hours. Nobody recognized us when we
returned
so we dwelled in our anonymity like the lumberjack
in the forgiveness of the trees until slowly they forgot of us:
we had neither name nor expectation. Like the statues that are
immortal and
they preserve our mortal hour.
~Τάσου Λειβαδίτη-Εκλεγμένα Ποιήματα/Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη
~Tasos Livaditis-Selected Poems/Translated by Manolis Aligizakis
http://www.libroslibertad.ca
http://www.authormanolis.wordpress.com

Tasos Livaditis//Τάσος Λειβαδίτης

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ΚΑΝΕΙΣ δεν ήξερε πως το πρόσωπό μου δεν ήταν αληθινό
και με πόση πανουργία ( κι άλλα ταπεινά τεχνάσματα) συγκράτησα
αυτή την αμφίβολη προσωπίδα, γιατί απ’ την πρώτη μερα είχαμε
χάσει κιόλας το πιο σημαντικό, κι ήμασταν πάντα τόσο λίγο εδώ,
σαν τα χέρια των ζητιάνων, που επιστρέφουν τη νύχτα στον παλιό
τους κάτοχο, φυσικά, το σπίτι ήταν πάντα κλειδωμένο, μα ο άλλος
είχε μπει πολύ πριν,
“πρέπει να βγω” σκέφτηκα, “αλλιώς είμαι χαμένος”, κι ίσως
να το κατόρθωνα, αν δε με πρόδινε το βήμα μου, αυτό το προσεχτι-
κό βήμα των φτωχών, σα να θέλουν ν’ αποφύγουν το χειρότερο,
τόσο σαστισμένο, που ακόμα κι αν δεν υπήρχε ουρανός εμείς εκεί
θα πηγαίναμε.
NONE knew that my face wasn’t real and with such
cunning (and other shady tricks) I retained this ambivalent
mask because from the first day we had already lost the most
important thing and we’ve remained here for such short time
like the hands of beggars that at night retreated to their original
owners; of course the house was always locked though the
other man had already been inside
“I have to go out” I thought “otherwise I’m dead” and
perhaps I could managed this, unless my walk betrayed me
that careful walk of the poor as though trying to avoid the
worst, the so confused, that even if there wasn’t any
sky we would still have ended up there.
~Τάσου Λειβαδίτη-Εκλεγμένα Ποιήματα/Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη
~Tasos Livaditis-Selected Poems/Translated by Manolis Aligizakis
http://www.libroslibertad.ca
http://www.authormanolis.wordpress.com

Tasos Livaditis//Τάσος Λειβαδίτης

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ΕΚ ΠΡΩΤΗΣ όψεως, βέβαια, όλοι φαίνονται απροσδόκητα
ενώ αυτό που φοβόμαστε έχει γίνει από καιρό, κι ήτανε μέσα μας,
κι εμείς το πηγαίναμε στην επικίνδυνη ώρα και συχνά σταματού-
σες στη μέση της σκάλας, γιατί ποιός ξέρει πού είναι το άλλο
σκαλοπάτι, ιδιαίτερα το βράδυ καθώς διάβαινες τις άδειες κάμα-
ρες, σου `πεφτε πάντα κάτι απ’ τα χέρια, σαν να `θελε να ξαναγυ-
ρίσει, και τότε, όπως γονάτιζες να το βρεις, συναντούσες τον
άλλον
αφού κάθε κίνηση μας προδίνει, κι ένα άλλο ποτήρι σηκώνεις
απ’ αυτό που πήγαινες, προτίμησα, λοιπόν, να σωπάσω, μα όταν
μες στο σκοτάδι χτύπησαν μεσάνυχτα, όλο το σπίτι ράγισε άξαφνα,
και τότε, στο βάθος του διαδρόμου, το είδαμε που πέρασε εντελώς
καθαρά.
AT FIRST glance of course everything seem to be unexpected
while what we’ve feared had already taken place and was inside us
and we carried it to the dangerous hour and often you would stop
in the middle of the stairs because, who knows where was the next
step; especially in the night as you walked through the empty rooms
something always fell off your hands as if wanting to return and
then as you’d kneel to find it you would meet the other man
since every gesture gives us up and you carry a different
glass from the one you wanted, I therefore chose to keep silent;
but when in darkness midnight struck suddenly the whole
house shook and then at the end of the hallway we saw him
as he quite clearly walked by us.
~Τάσου Λειβαδίτη-Εκλεγμένα Ποιήματα/Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη
~Tasos Livaditis-Selected Poems/Translated by Manolis Aligizakis

http://www.libroslibertad.ca
http://www.authormanolis.wordpress.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.amazon.kindle.com
http://www.smashwords.com

Υπεράνθρωπος//Ubermensch

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FIRST PAIN

During the first night of resurrection we decided
to shed our blood and mix it with our enemy’s.
When we neared the dark forest we remembered
the forbidden room where the wax dripped onto
the ravaged tablecloth where candle snuff out
the un-repeated call of our hero who chose us
because we yearned for knowledge, we chose to become
the reason and the path for Ubermensch, we elected
our sundown even when our eyes were glued onto
the faded curtain that waited for dawn to light
the forbidden room where we felt the first pain of youth.

ΠΡΩΤΟΣ ΠΟΝΟΣ

Την πρώτη νύχτα της ανάστασης αποφασίσαμε
το αίμα μας να σμίξουμε με των εχθρών μας.
Στο σκοτεινό δάσος μπήκαμε και θυμηθήκαμε
εκείνο το δωμάτιο που σαν παιδιά μας απαγόρευαν
να εισέλθουμε εκεί που το κερί έλιωνε στάζοντας
στο λεκιασμένο τραπεζομάντιλο, ανεπανάληπτο
του ήρωά μας κάλεσμα που διάλεξε κοντά αυτούς
που πεθυμήσαν γνώση για να γίνουν άγια αιτία
τον Υπεράνθρωπο να φέρουν και το ηλιοβασίλεμα
πάντα τα μάτια κολλημένα ήτανε στη κουρτίνα
που ξεθώριασε το φως να περιμένει, μες το δωμάτιο
να μπει να το φωτίσει εκεί της πρώτης νιότης
το ανάβρυσμα που νιώσαμε.

 

http://www.ekstasiseditions.com

 

TZOUTZI MANTZOURANI//ΤΖΟΥΤΖΗ ΜΑΝΤΖΟΥΡΑΝΗ

Hear Me Out_cover_Jun9.indd

 

http://www.spreaker.com/user/6314317/air-play-poetry-corner-hear-me-out

I Want You ‘Now’

Now, here, next to me!
I don’t want you to come tomorrow. I don’t want you to tell me
what time you’ll come.
I want you to come in the night and ring the doorbell, suddenly,
when I’m asleep.
Without me knowing it!
Unexpectedly!
To come and ring the bell and as I would open the door half
asleep and startled you’ll slip under my blankets and I would
never wake up until morning and in your arms.
I want to wake up and smell the fragrance of your cologne when
you shave in the bathroom.
You’ll kiss me as you leave and I shall go back to the unravelled
bed sheets. I’ll hear the door close behind you I’ll smile as if I’m
in a dream, while I would still be asleep.
And when I get up hours later not to know whether it was a
dream or reality that I dreamed or I truly experienced all this.

Τώρα σε θέλω!

Τώρα! Εδώ! Πλάι μου
Δεν θέλω να ’ρθεις αύριο! Δεν θέλω να μου πεις τι ώρα θα ’ρθεις!
Θέλω να μου χτυπήσεις το κουδούνι μέσα στη νύχτα, έτσι στα ξαφνικά, όταν θα κοιμάμαι.
Χωρίς να το ξέρω!
Χωρίς να το περιμένω!
Να χτυπήσεις το κουδούνι κι όπως θα σου ανοίξω μισοκοιμισμένη και ξαφνιασμένη, να χωθείς μέσα στο κρεβάτι μου και να μην προλάβω να ξυπνήσω άλλο, παρά μόνο το πρωί στην αγκαλιά σου.
Θέλω να ξυπνήσω απ’ τη μυρωδιά της κολόνιας σου, όταν θα ξυρίζεσαι στο μπάνιο το πρωί.
Να με φιλήσεις φεύγοντας κι εγώ να πάρω στροφή μέσα στα ανακατωμένα σεντόνια. Κι όταν ακούσω την πόρτα να κλείνει πίσω σου, να χαμογελάσω σαν να βλέπω όνειρο, ενώ θα κοιμάμαι ακόμη.
Κι όταν ξυπνήσω μετά από ώρα, να μη ξέρω αν ήταν ψέματα ή αλήθεια, αν το ονειρεύτηκα ή το έζησα όλο αυτό τελικά.

~HEAR ME OUT, Tzoutzi Mantzourani, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2015
http://www.libroslibertad.ca

 

 

 

Kiki Dimoula//Κική Δημουλά

kiki-dimoula

ΜΟΝΟΚΟΝΤΥΛΙΕΣ

Εύκολα περιγράφομαι και λύνομαι
με μονοκοντυλιές.
Δεν είναι βαρετό αυτό
τις χειμωνιάτικες νύχτες.

Τραβήξτε πρώτα μια στερεά
μπηγμένη κατακόρυφα.
Αυτή θα `ναι η πίστη μου.
Μιαν άλλη αμέσως από απέναντι
βυθίστε την στο κέτρο της σχεδόν,
κατάλληλα έτσι
να μοιάζ’ η πρώτη κλονισμένη.
Βάλτε μεγάλες πλάι σε μικρές,
αχνές σε τονισμένες δίπλα,
να δείχνουνε τις τάσεις μου.
Φριντίστε αυτές να μην τελειώνουνε ποτέ
γιατί θα συντομέψετε άσχημα τη λύση μου.
Πετάξτε σκόρπιες μερικές
αλλά σ’ απίθανη κατεύθυνση,
τις αντιφάσεις μου.
Δύο μεγάλες κεντρικές προσθέστε
με του μοιραίου το χάσμα ανάμεσά τους.

Τώρα με το μολύβι
(ή με τη φαντασία σας)
φροντίστε πάνω από αυτά
μια καταχνιά να κάθεται,
γιατί με σκέτη μονοκοντυλιά
η θλίψη μου δεν περιγράφεται.

SINGLE STROKES OF THE PEN

You may easily describe and explain me
with single strokes of the pen.
It isn’t boring
during the winter nights.

A firm one you may draw up front
thrust it in vertically.
This will be my faith.
Another one you may draw from the opposite direction
thrust it deep into the center of the first
appropriately that the first one
will seem exhausted.
Place some long ones next to the short
the vague ones next to the underlined
to underscore my inclinations.
Make sure these don’t ever end
unless the explanation of me is shortened.
Scatter a few
of my objections
to all directions.
Add two long ones in the center
and between them the void of the inevitable.

Now with the pencil
(or your imagination)
make sure some mist hangs
over all these
cause with just one stroke of the pen
you can’t explain my sorrow.

~ΕΡΕΒΟΣ-EREBUS, by KIKI DIMOULA, ΙΚΑΡΟΣ, 1956, // translated by Manolis Aligizakis

Tasos Livaditis//Τάσος Λειβαδίτης

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OLD SONG

The garden railings are wet from the rain like the poor who
are left outside
but as night falls a flute or a star speaks for the whole
universe —
when we were children we would hide under the stairs and when
we would come out we had left behind a royal fate
silence makes the world bigger, sorrow more just
and later as young men we hugged the first tree and
narrated our past to it
joyless days that you’ve passed yet you’ve left behind an emotional
memory
and I who was crazy for the future now in agony I observe the movement
of the clock’s fingers.

Until one night a man goes along the road singing.
Where have you heard this song before? You don’t remember.
Yet nostalgia of all you dreamed off shivers in that song. You
stand by the window
and listen as if enchanted. And suddenly at the turn of the road
the song stops. Everything vanishes. Quiet.
And what you’ll do now?

ΠΑΛΙΟ ΤΡΑΓΟΥΔΙ

Τα κάγκελα του κήπου υγρά απ’ τη βροχή σαν τους φτωχούς που
τους αφήνουν έξω
αλλά καθώς βραδιάζει ένα φλάουτο κάπου ή ένα άστρο συνηγορεί
για όλη την ανθρωπότητα —
σαν ήμασταν παιδιά κρυβόμαστε κάτω απ’ τη σκάλα κι όταν βγαί-
ναμε είχαμε αφήσει εκεί ένα βασιλικό πεπρωμένο
η σιωπή κάνει τον κόσμο πιο μεγάλο η θλίψη πιο δίκαο
κι αργότερα νέοι αγκαλιάσαμε το πρώτο δέντρο και του διηγηθή-
καμε τα περασμένα
άχαρες μέρες που φύγατε κι όμως αφήσατε μια ανάμνηση συγκινη-
τική
κι εγώ που υπήρξα τρελός για το αύριο κοιτάζω τώρα με αγωνία να
προχωρούν οι λεπτοδείχτες στα ρολόγια.

Ώσπου μια νύχτα ένα διαβάτης περνάει στο δρόμο τραγουδώντας.
Πού έχεις ξανακούσει το τραγούδι αυτό; Δε θυμάσαι.
Κι όμως η νοσταλγία όλων όσων ονειρεύτηκες τρέμει μες στο τρα-
γούδι. Στέκεσαι στο παράθυρο
κι ακούς σα μαγεμένος. Κι άξαφνα σε κάποια στροφή του δρόμου το
τραγούδι σβήνει. Όλα χάνονται. Ησυχία.
Και τώρα τί θα κάνεις;

~Tasos Livaditis, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2014

ΣΤΕΛΛΑ ΔΟΥΜΟΥ

Στέλλα Δούμου, Σκουριά σινδόνη

Ψυχοναύτες

jiang-zhaohe-refugees-1943-1

Και προχωρούσα μέσα στη νύχτα χωρίς
Να γνωρίζω κανένανε κι ούτε
Κανένας με γνώριζε.
~Μανόλης Αναγνωστάκης~

Μέσα στο πόδι τού οδοιπόρου χρυσαλλίδα πυρίμαχη
τους δικέφαλους σκύλους γυμνάζει.
Μουρμουρητό μονοπάτι δονεί τις δίνες του αέρα
βλασταίνουν φίδια στα βεληνεκή, αυτό είναι σίγουρο.
Οι εποχές τον αναπαριστούν αλλιώτικο όσο βαδίζει.
Ωάρια πυξίδας δείχνουν βορρά αναμαλλιασμένο σε ουρανό τεκταινόμενο.
Πέρα μακριά χαίνουν οι Όλυμποι τις άπειρες κλίμακες του λυκόφωτος μυρμηγκιάζοντας τις επικράτειες.
Το σπίτι του αναπαύεται στης σκιάς το κλειδωμένο βάρος
Ακτινωτά οι ομοζυγωτικοί νεκροί του, γλείφουν άστρα αλμυρά. Έτσι τους θυμάται.
H αριστερή πλευρά του δρόμου αβαρής∙
είναι το νερό: μαύρος θυρεός με αμίαντα φεγγάρια.
Η δεξιά κινείται γρηγορότερα κι απ’ την κόλαση.
Πρόσωπα εγνωσμένης κωφότητας τον προσπερνούν
βρέφη που μηρυκάζουν αλάτι
φέρετρα που γευματίζουνε πηλούς μονογενείς
κι ο δρόμος πίσω του να χύνεται
σε μπολ αβύσσου.
Όταν κάποτε σεληνανθοί στις όχθες των ματιών
μαλακώνουν των βουνών τις σκληρές πέτσες

http://www.tokoskino.wordpress.com

c. p. cavafy

cavafy copy

VOICES
Ideal and beloved voices
of the dead or those who
for us are lost like the dead.
At times they talk in our dreams;
at times our minds hear them when in thought.
And with their sound, for a moment, echoes
return from the first poetry of our lives—
like distant music, at night, that slowly fades away.

ΦΩΝΕΣ

Ιδανικές φωνές κι αγαπημένες
εκείνων που πεθάναν, η εκείνων που είναι
για μας χαμένοι σαν τους πεθαμένους
Κάποτε μες τα όνειρα μας ομιλούνε
κάποτε μες τη σκέψη τες ακούει το μυαλό
Και με τον ήχο των για μια στιγμή επιστρέφουν
ήχοι από την πρώτη ποίηση της ζωής μας —
σα μουσική, την νύχτα, μακρινή, που σβύνει.

CANDLES

The days of the future stand in front of us
like a line of lit candles—
golden, warm, and lively little candles.
The days of the past remain behind,
a sorrowful line of burned out candles;
the closest ones are still smoking,
cold candles, melted, and drooping.
I don’t want to look at them; their shape saddens me,
and it saddens me to remember their previous light.
I look ahead at my lit candles.
I don’t want to look back and see in horror
how fast the dark line lengthens,
how quickly the burned out candles multiply.

ΚΕΡΙΑ

Του μέλλοντος η μέρες στέκοντ’ εμπροστά μας
σα μια σειρά κεράκια αναμένα—
χρυσά, ζεστά, και ζωηρά κεράκια.
Η περασμένες μέρες πίσω μένουν,
μια θλιβερή γραμμή κεριών σβυσμένων
τα πιο κοντά βγάζουν κανπνόν ακόμη,
κρύα κεριά, λυωμένα, και κυρτά
Δεν θέλω να τα βλέπω με λυπεί η μορφή των
και με λυπεί το πρώτο φως των να θυμούμαι.
Εμπρός κυττάζω τ’ αναμένα μου κεριά
Δεν θέλω να γυρίσω να μην διω και φρίξω
τί γρήγορα που η σκοτεινή γραμμή μακραίνει
τί γρήγορα που τα σβυστά κεριά πληθαίνουν.

CAVAFY’S BIOGRAPHY

‘I am from Constantinople by descent, but I was born in Alexandria— at a house on Seriph Street; I left at a young age and spent many of years of my childhood in England. I visited that country later on as an adult although for a short period of time. I also lived in France. During my adolescence I lived in Constantinople for about two years. I haven’t visited Greece for long time. My last employment was as a clerk at a Government office under the Ministry of Public works of Egypt. I speak English, French, and some Italian.’
This auto-biographical note of Constantine P. Cavafy or Konstantinos Petrou Kavafis, (Κωνσταντίνος Πέτρου Καβάφης), published in 1924 in the celebratory issue of the magazine New Art, may be supplemented with the following.
Cavafy was born on April 17/29th of 1863. Son of a family of merchants, he had eight older siblings all of whom died before him. Two of his brothers were painters, and another wrote poems in English and French; a cousin of his translated Shakespeare.
His father died in 1870 leaving the family in difficult financial position. Cavafy’s mother moved the family to England, where the two eldest sons took over their father’s business. However, their inexperience caused the ruin of the family fortunes and they returned to Alexandria. But the few years that Cavafy spent in England shaped his poetic sensibility and he became so comfortable with the second language that he wrote his first poems in English.
After the brief time he spent in England he moved with his mother to Constantinople where he lived with his grandfather; his stay here was brief and he arrived in Alexandria in 1879. Although they lived in great poverty and discomfort, he wrote his first poems during this period. After working for short periods for the Alexandrian Newspaper and the Egyptian Stock Exchange, at the age of twenty-nine Cavafy took up an appointment as a special clerk in the Irrigation Service of the Ministry of public works, a position he held for the next thirty years. Much of his young ambition during those years was devoted to writing poems and prose essays.
Constantine Cavafy had a very small circle of people around him. He lived with his mother until her death in 1899, and after that with his unmarried brothers. For much of his adult life he lived alone. Influential relationships included his twenty-year acquaintance with E.M. Forster.
Cavafy had one long lasting friendship with Alexander Singopoulos, whom Cavafy designated as his heir and literary executor when he was sixty years old, ten years before his death.
Cavafy remained virtually unknown in Greece until late in his career. He was introduced to the mainland Greek literary circles through a favorable review written by the well known Greek writer Xenopoulos in 1903; however, he got little recognition since his writing style was different from the mainstream Greek poetry of the time. Some twenty years later, after the war of 1919-1923 between Greece and Turkey, a new generation of poets such as Karyotakis would find some inspiration in Cavafy’s work.
It is generally accepted that Cavafy was a homosexual and themes of gay relationships appear in a number of his poems; indeed there is hardly any reference to a woman or a kore, as in Elytis’ works where the kore is a predominant sensual image. In Cavafy, we find numerous sensual references to young men or ephebes, all in their early twenties.
Since his death his reputation has grown and now he is considered one of the finest Greek poets; his work has been published again and again and is taught in schools in Greece, and in colleges and universities throughout the world. A film about his life was produced in Greece in 1996.
He is considered one of the most influential poets of modern Greece and along with Palamas, Kalvos, Seferis, Elytis, Egonopoulos and Ritsos he was instrumental in the revival and recognition of Greek poetry both in Greece and abroad.
His first published poem was printed for the magazine Hesperos in 1886. After that he kept publishing his poems in various magazines in Alexandria and Athens, as well as in some private editions of his friends. He also published articles and philosophical diatribes in newspapers and magazines of Leipsia, Constantinople, Alexandria and Athens.
In 1926, the military government of Pangalos, after a submission by G. Haritakis, awarded him the “Silver Medal of Phoenix”. The same year the periodical Alexandrian Art was launched under his guidance.
After his death a collection of 154 poems was published under the care of his executor Alexander Singopoulos and his then wife Rica, and with the collaboration of the painter Takis Kalmouchos. Since 1948 “Ikaros” has been the publisher of Cavafy’s works in Greece.
The first official presentation of Cavafy in Greece was in the Hellinika Grammata by Gregory Xenopoulos in 1903. At the same time the English writer E. M. Forster was the first one to introduce the poet to international readers.
Cavafy’s poems have been translated into just about all the European languages, and the majority of his more mature poetic creations have been translated and published from 1951 to 1980: twice in English, twice in French, once in German, and once in Italian.
He died of cancer of the larynx on April 29, 1933, on his seventieth birthday, in Alexandria.
In Canada, the most valuable work on Cavafy has been created by Greek Canadian Poet Manolis by translating and publishing a selection of poems in Constantine P. Cavafy – Poems.

http://www.libroslibertad.ca

Biography of translator Manolis Aligizakis

Manolis

BIOGRAPHY

Manolis (Emmanuel Aligizakis) is a Greek-Canadian poet and author. He is the most prolific writer-poet of the Greek diaspora. At the age of eleven he transcribed the nearly 500 year old romantic poem Erotokritos, now released in a limited edition of 100 numbered copies and made available at 5,000 dollars Canadian: the most expensive book of its kind to this day. He was recently appointed an honorary instructor and fellow of the International Arts Academy, and awarded a Master’s for the Arts in Literature. He is recognized for his ability to convey images and thoughts in a rich and evocative way that tugs at something deep within the reader. Born in the village of Kolibari on the island of Crete in 1947, he moved with his family at a young age to Thessaloniki and then to Athens, where he received his Bachelor of Arts in Political Sciences from the Panteion University of Athens. After graduation, he served in the armed forces for two years and emigrated to Vancouver in 1973, where he worked as an iron worker, train labourer, taxi driver, and stock broker, and studied English Literature at Simon Fraser University. He has written three novels and numerous collections of poetry, which are steadily being released as published works. His articles, poems and short stories in both Greek and English have appeared in various magazines and newspapers in Canada, United States, Sweden, Hungary, Slovakia, Romania, Australia, Jordan, Serbia and Greece. His poetry has been translated into Spanish, Romanian, Swedish, German, Hungarian, Arabic, Turkish, Serbian, Russian languages and has been published in book form or in magazines in various countries. He now lives in White Rock, where he spends his time writing, gardening, traveling, and heading Libros Libertad, an unorthodox and independent publishing company which he founded in 2006 with the mission of publishing literary books. His translation book “George Seferis-Collected Poems” was shortlisted for the Greek National Literary Awards the highest literary recognition of Greece.

AWARDS
~Distinguished Poet and Writer Award, City of Richmond, BC, 2014
~1st Poetry Prize, International Arts Academy for this translation of “Yannis Ritsos- Selected Poems”, 2014
~Winner of the Dr. Asha Bhargava Memorial Award, Writers International Network Canada, 2014
~“George Seferis-Collected Poems” translated by Manolis, shortlisted for the Greek National Literary Awards, translation category.
~1st Poetry Prize, International Arts Academy, for his translation of “George Seferis-Collected Poems”, 2013
~Master of the Arts in Literature, International Arts Academy, 2013
~1st Prize for poetry, 7th Volos poetry Competition, 2012
~Honorary instructor and fellow, International Arts Academy, 2012
~2nd Prize for short story, Interartia festival, 2012
~2nd Prize for Poetry, Interartia Festival, 2012
~2nd Prize for poetry, Interartia Festival, 2011
~3rd Prize for short stories, Interartia Festival, 2011

BOOKS by MANOLIS

Chthonian Bodies, paintings by Ken Kirkby and poems by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2015
Images of Absence, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2015
Autumn Leaves, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2014
Übermensch/Υπεράνθρωπος, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2013
Mythography, paintings and poems, Libros Libertad, 2012
Nostos and Algos, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2012
Vortex, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2011
The Circle, novel, Libros Libertad, 2011
Vernal Equinox, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2011
Opera Bufa, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2010
Vespers, paintings and poems, Libros Libertad, 2010
Triptych, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2010
Nuances, poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2009
Rendition, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2009
Impulses, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2009
Troglodytes, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2008
Petros Spathis, novel, Libros Libertad, 2008
El Greco, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2007
Path of Thorns, poetry, Libros Libertad, 2006
Footprints in Sandstone, poetry, Authorhouse, Bloomington, Indiana, 2006
The Orphans, poetry, Authorhouse, Bloomington, Indiana, 2005
TRANSLATIONS by MANOLIS
Hours of the Stars, poetry by Dimitris Liantinis, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2015

Hear Me Out, short stories, by Tzoutzi Mantzourani, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2015

Caressing Myths, poetry by Dina Georgantopoulos, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros libertad, 2015

Idolaters, a novel by Joanna Frangia, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2014

Tasos Livaditis-Selected Poems, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2014
Yannis Ritsos-Selected Poems, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Ekstasis Editions, 2013
Cloe and Alexandra-Selected Poems, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2013
George Seferis-Collected Poems, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2012
Yannis Ritsos-Poems, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2010
Constantine P. Cavafy – Poems, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2008

Cavafy-Selected Poems, translated by Manolis Aligizakis, Ekstasis Editions, 2011

BOOKS in OTHER LANGUAGES
A Fogoly, (Hungarian), a novel by Manolis Aligizakis (English publication with the title “Petros Spathis”), translated into Hungarian by Karoly Csiby, AB-ART, Slovakia, 2015
Άσματα του Παραλόγου, (Greek), poetry, ENEKEN, Salonika, Greece, 2015
Εικόνες Απουσίας, (Greek) poetry, Sexpirikon, Salonika, Greece, 2015
Oszi Falevelek, (Hungarian), poetry by Manolis Aligizakis, translated into Hungarian by Karoly Csiby, Gyp, Hungary, 2015
Svest, (Serbian), poetry by Manolis Aligizakis, translated into Serbian by Jolanka Kovacs, Serbia, 2015
Eszmelet, (Hungarian), poetry by Manolis Aligizakis, translated into Hungarian by Karoly Csiby, AB-ART, Bratislava, Slovakia, 2014
Ιερόδουλες, (Greek), poetry, Sexpirikon, Salonika, Greece, 2014
Υπεράνθρωπος, (Greek), poetry, ENEKEN, Salonika, Greece, 2014
Übermensch (German), poetry by Manolis Aligizakis, translated into German by Eniko Thiele Csekei, WINDROSE, Austria, 2014
Nostos si Algos, (Romanian) poetry by Manolis Aligizakis, translated into Romanian by Lucia Gorea, DELLART, Cluj-Napoca, Romania, 2013
Τολμηρές Ανατάσεις, (Greek) poetry, GAVRIILIDIS EDITIONS, Athens, Greece, 2013
Φυλλορροές, (Greek) poetry, ENEKEN PUBLICATIONS, Salonika, Greece, 2013
Εαρινή Ισημερία, (Greek) poetry, ENEKEN PUBLICATIONS, Salonika, Greece, 2011
Στρατής Ρούκουνας, (Greek) novel, MAVRIDIS EDITIONS, Athens, Greece, 1981
LONGHAND BOOKS

Erotokritos, by Vitsentzos Kornaros, (rare book-collectible), transcribed by Manolis Aligizakis, Libros Libertad, 2015