Antony Fostieris – Selected Poems, Review by AI

Excerpt

Aligizakis’s English translation makes the book available as an extensive, chronological encounter, and many images retain memorable force: the ant’s winter seeds, the black words suspended from a ceiling, the gear glimpsed at the edge of vision. The translation also preserves the poems’ shifts between colloquial speech, philosophical reflection, biblical language, and abrupt surrealism. At points, however, English syntax feels stiff or opaque, and some collocations sound unusual enough to distract from the image. That texture can make the reader pause productively, but it can also blur whether a phrase’s strangeness is deliberate or translational. Without comparing the Greek originals, one cannot confidently assign those effects to either poet or translator. The introduction’s account of Fostieris’s rhythmic and linguistic range is useful, though its sweeping critical language is less persuasive than the poems themselves. The interview is more illuminating: Fostieris describes translation and tradition as part of poetry’s shared language, and prefers chronological presentation because it shows motifs in their “metamorphoses.” The book’s sequence bears out that claim.        For English-language readers, this volume offers more than an introduction to a contemporary Greek poet; it offers a sustained encounter with a poetic intelligence that distrusts easy oppositions. Fostieris’s poems are not transparent meditations: they invite rereading, and their occasional obscurity belongs partly to a project that questions how words and concepts mediate experience. Yet their questions travel. What does memory preserve? Can thought touch the world without remaking it? What does poetry do with the knowledge that bodies and words decay? Across five decades, Fostieris answers not with doctrine but with images that keep changing their terms. This selection’s strongest achievement is to make that change visible. Its long voyage moves toward no final shore, but teaches the reader to notice the seconds, bodies, voices, and vanishing meanings encountered along the way.

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume II

Holiday
Enclosed days naturally finished. Many lights, colourful
dresses and sometimes without dresses,
words remembered off by heart and true words,
thoughtful or not and silence that was sometimes spoken;
there weren’t only the lighted performances;
the sun and the trees and the naked body took part too
yet the end, even a temporary one, wasn’t unrealized.
The theatre was closed. Shadows walked slowly in front
of the big mirrors in the hallway, hanging masks,
lustful ghosts;
there wasn’t any person behind them, and
those masks vanished like the smoke of the last
cigarette
soon as the voice of the milkman was heard in the street
next morning and the steps of the cleaning lady
on the marble stairs.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1997266008?th=1

Swamped

Excerpt

“A good friend at Yorkshire would like some of the primary
shares. What should I tell him?”
Eteo smiled and pulled her close.
“This is a hot issue, Frances. I can’t send any shares to Yorkshire,
but tell your buddy that anything he might be able to buy in the first
two weeks he better go in the market and buy. Even better, tell him
that I’m willing to cross a good size of stock to him on the first day,
so he’ll be positioned before the stock moves higher.”
“What do you expect after two weeks?”
“A higher price” he said laconically.
Frances gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Hot man, my hot guy,
we’ll see, yes, we’ll see,” she said as she turned to leave, moving her
beautiful behind lasciviously as she walked out of the office.
Robert O’Leary called Eteo a few minutes later to ask what had
happened with the Golden Veins drilling. Eteo told him they had lost
the well, which did not surprise Robert. The poor market had already
announced as much.
“You allocated some shares of Mario’s Nostra to my accounts?”
“Of course. Ten thousand for each of your two accounts.”
“I’d like some more, Are you tight with this one?”
“Big demand for the shares, Rob. I didn’t expect this, honestly.
Mario just sent twenty-five new accounts for the shareholder list,
a thousand shares each.”
“Okay … so cross me another twenty thousand out of your warrants.
You’ll cross them out as soon as it lists?”
“Yes, Mario wants them on the first trading session. I’ll give you
twenty out of those, okay?
“Good.”
By now Eteo’s day was almost over. He called Ariana and caught
her getting ready to visit her mother.
“I’m just on my way out,” she explained. “Are you done for
today?”
“Soon,” he replied. “Want to go for our walk when you’re done?
Call me, okay?”
“Yes, my love, later on.”
“Okay, love you.”

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562976

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08WP3LMPX?th=1