Eris

Kishwar Naheed, Έκφραση

Painting by Lo Ch’ing, detail

TRUTH

The door of truth was open,
but let only half a person pass at a time.
Thus, it was not possible to attain the whole truth,
because the half person who entered
brought only the profile of half of the truth.

And the second half
also returned with half a profile.
And the two half-profiles did not match.

They smashed the door. They knocked the door down.
They arrived at a luminous place
where the truth radiated its flames.
It was divided into two halves,
different from one another.

Each quarreled which half was more beautiful.
None of the two was perfectly beautiful.
But one had to choose. Everyone opted
according to his whim, his illusion, his myopia.

Carlos Drummond de Andrade, Brasil, 1902–1987

Translation Germain Droogenbroodt – Stanley Barkan

From “Poesia completa”, Rio de Janeiro: Nova Aguilar, 2002.

ΑΛΗΘΕΙΑ

Η πόρτα της αλήθειας ήταν ανοιχτή

μα επέτρεπε κάθε φορά

μόνο μισό απ’ το κάθε άτομο να μπει

κι έτσι ήταν αδύνατο όλη η αλήθεια να βρεθεί

αφού το μισό του ανθρώπου που έμπαινε

πίσω γύριζε με τη μισή αλήθεια

και τα μισά δύο ατόμων ποτέ δεν ταίριαζαν.

Κάποια στιγμή την πόρτα έσπασαν

και μπαίνοντας έφτασαν σε τόπο λαμπερό

που η αλήθεια έλαμπε φωτιά

στα δύο χωρισμένη, ανόμοια μισά

που καυγάδιζαν ποιό απ’ τα δυο ήταν πιο όμορφο

και μήτε το ένα μήτε το άλλο ήταν τέλειο.

Κι όμως είχε ο καθένας να επιλέξει σύμφωνα

με το γούστο του, τη φαντασία του

τη μυωπία του.

Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη//Translated by Manolis Aligizakis

THE GATE

Excerpt XXI

The flower shop girl sprays the carnations. I’ve waited

all week long.

I communicate with the nails. I have no phone.

The hard of hearing man stoops close to my mouth, puts

his stethoscope on my chest, to listen to my voice;

I disguise it so he can’t listen to my silence deep inside;

I hold my breath; I breathe slowly to give rhythm to

my pulse; this is truly the rhythm; I walk along with

history; sometimes ahead of it; the world is good; I

don’t sleep for too long; I sit by the window after

midnight and I see the shadows of the vacant traffic

cop stands, the blood as it changes colour on

the sidewalk, especially to see the wild, hungry,

beautiful cats ripping the green bags outside the closed

apartment buildings with the glass doors, with

the moon divided into five pieces; one of these glass

pieces is stuck vertically deep into the brown floor

planks of the caretaker’s desk.

https://www.lulu.com/account/projects/w454dzp?page=1&pageSize=10

Μαρία  Πανούτσου, Ποιήματα 

Νυμφών, Πνύκα, Φιλοπάππου: Οι δυτικοί λόφοι της αρχαίας Αθήνας

Poem by George Seferis

V

We didn’t know them

deep inside it was hope that said

we had met them in early childhood.

Perhaps we had seen them twice and then they went to the ships

cargoes of coal, cargoes of crops and our friends

vanished beyond the ocean forever.

Daybreak finds us beside the tired lamp

drawing on paper, awkwardly, painfully

ships, mermaids or conches;

at dusk we go down the river

because it shows us the way to the sea

and we spend our nights in cellars smelling of tar.

Our friends have left us

perhaps we never saw them, perhaps

we encountered them when sleep

still brought us very close to the breathing wave

perhaps we search for them because we search for the other life,

beyond the statues.

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Ο επαναστατημένος λαός που κατοικεί την Υεμένη- Il popolo ribelle che abita lo Yemen

Winter Café

Steamed café windows

conceal disguised efforts

of old men surrounding

the burning brazier

recalling old stories

young men dream of

future girlfriends and

exploits in bushes or under

the moon’s watchful eye

and the lone postman sighs

for the love letter

he never received

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IN THE OPEN

This comedy has gone too far.

Let’s put everything in the open:

I not only foresee your disdain

I also provoke it.

In the wild joy of my self-humiliation

I skillfully invite the footsteps that trample me

and from my self-inflicted wounds or the ones

you inflict on me, which I keep open with tooth

and nail, I draw an irreversible, toxic opium

that leads me to my death but doesn’t kill me.

It only cripples and

exhausts me.

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