Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume IV

Orestes (excerpt)

And I remember now the eyes of the cow — not that

it is so important — dark, blind, huge, round eyes, like

two little hills made of darkness or black glass; a bell

tower was imperceptibly reflected on them with crows

perched on the cross; and then someone yelled and

the crows flew away from the eyes of the cow. I believe

the cow was a symbol of an ancient religion. Keep

these ideas and abstractions away from me. She’s just

a common cow good for its milk, the plough, with all

its wisdom for work, endurance, and usefulness. Yet,

the last moment, before the animals returned to

the village, you remember? — she let an agonizing

moo to the edge of the horizon, so agonizing that

all birds, branches, goats, sparrows, horses and

farmers scattered away, leaving it behind, alone in

bare circle from which the spiral of constellations

rose high up into the space until the cow ascented too;

no, no, I think I discerned it in the darkness among

the herd, climbing the brushy path, silent, obedient

cow going to the village at the time when they lighted

the oil lamps in the courtyards, behind the trees.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CGX139M6

George Seferis – Collected Poems

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.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B096TTS37J

Constantine Cavafy – Poems

DANGEROUS THINGS

Said Myrtias (a Syrian student

in Alexandria, during the reign

of Augustus Constans and Augustus Constantios,

partly pagan, partly Christian);

“Strengthened by theory and by study

I shall not fear my passions like a coward.

I shall give my body to carnal delights,

to the pleasures we dream about,

to the most daring erotic desires,

to the lascivious urges of my blood, without

any fear, because, whenever I choose,

and have the will, strengthened

as I shall be by theory and by study—

at the critical moment I shall find

my spirit, as it was before, ascetic.”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1723961833

Έλλη Αλεξίου, Για τον Έρωτα (re-blog)

Ολοκληρωτισμός χωρίς γκουλάγκ, (re-blog)

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume IV

THE GATE

(Excerpt 13)

The other passes with a sack on his back; all his

belongings, a pair of socks, an undershirt an

undergarment — he wears his shirt — two slices

of bread, no razor, his beard has grown long, no

notebook, he has paid off his debts, doesn’t need

to borrow anything, he had seen a naked woman

in the twilight, hadn’t seen her clearly, he shuts

his eyes, imagines her the way he likes, short legs,

long legs,

big breast, small tight, you can’t control the body;

the other’s body or yours, it slides on the light,

escapes its shadow,

whole, cut in pieces, each piece, water well

in water well

hill upon hill, tree next to tree over the other tree

circle on circle, secure circles, you run around them

you see one piece, you miss the other,

Oh mother of mine, he yelled, you gave me a circular

mouth,

circular hand too, to see, to lick, to touch the whole

circle.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CGX139M6

Katerina Anghelaki-Rooke, Selected Poems

POETIC POSTSCRIPT

Poems can’t be

beautiful

when truth has turned ugly.

Experience now

is the only body of the poems

and as experience is enriched

the poem finds nourishment

and it might become strong.

My knees hurt and I can’t

kneel before poetry anymore

I can only gift it with

my experienced wounds.

The adjectives wilted

I can only use my imagination

to embellish poetry.

Yet I shall always serve it

as long as it too wishes

as only poetry makes me forget

the enclosed horizon of my future.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763521

Αυτογνωσία και Αυτοβελτίωση (re-blog)

Neo-Hellene Poets, an Anthology of Modern Greek Poetry

Poem by Dimitris Liantinis

SHIELD

When the shield of the sun

descended to the careenage of the west

the face of day melted

mummy thrown into the light.

Trees set traps for the birds

where they burry their height

a ship sinks into the soil

and the beasts of the forest

have gone astray to the mountainous

goat paths.

The procurement of the stars reveals

blood in the ravine

that buzzes naked

slashing the skin of water

the flesh of things

can’t find refuge

in basil.

Linos’ skinned body hangs

over the midnight mast

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763513

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume IV

Orestes ( excerpt)

The unfortunate woman finally stopped. It’s as if

I hear her right in her silence — so unprotected

in her anger, so unjustly treated, with her bitter

hair on her shoulders like the grass of a grave, enclosed

in her narrow justice. Perhaps she fell asleep, perhaps

she dreams of an innocent place with innocent animals

with whitewashed houses, with fragrances of warm

bread and roses.

And I now remember — I don’t know why — that cow

we saw in the Attica plain, that evening, you remember?

It was taken off the plough, and standing it looked far

away, its breath steamed a little out of its nostrils,

in the purple, violet, golden sunset, silent cow, wounded,

on its back and sides, being whipped on its forehead,

perhaps knowing the denial and subjugation,

the intolerance and hatred of each agreement.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CGX139M6