Wheat Ears-Selected Poems

Loneliness

And I showed Zeus my first verse

maze-like delicate quatrain

eyes that became epicenter

bell that chimed its aloofness

when flat-footed I stepped into

the fresh and shallow water

vague line of the horizon

merciless hymn hymning hymnal

vespers alike pathways of my mind

traversing my archaic depths

before my advent into this world

caustic gases that choked the soldiers

orders of generals decorated for valor

and death blessing the short years

of the unlucky, loneliness

residing in my primeval verse

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BKHW4B4S

George Seferis – Collected Poems

II

One more well inside a cave.

At other times it was easy for us to draw up idols and

        ornaments

to please some friends who were still loyal to us.

Now the ropes are broken; only the grooves on the

        well’s lip

remind us of our past happiness

the fingers on the well’s lip, as the poet put it.

The fingers feel the coolness of the stone, a little

that the body’s heat prevails over it

and the cave gambles its soul and loses it

every moment, filled by silence, without a drop of water.

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

C. P. Cavafy – Poems

ΜΟΝΟΤΟΝΙΑ

Την μια μονότονην ημέραν άλλη

μονότονη, απαράλλακτη ακολουθεί. Θα γίνουν

τα ίδια πράγματα, θα ξαναγίνουν πάλι —

η όμοιες στιγμές μας βρίσκουνε και μας αφίνουν.

Μήνας περνά και φέρνει άλλον μήνα.

Αυτά που έρχονται κανείς εύκολα τα εικάζει

είναι τα χθεσινά τα βαρετά εκείνα.

Και καταντά το αύριο πια σαν αύριο να μη μοιάζει.

MONOTONY

One monotonous day is followed by

another identical monotonous day.

The same things will happen, they

will happen again—

the same moments will find us and leave us.

A month goes by and brings another month.

It’s easy to see what’s coming next;

those boring things from the day before.

Till tomorrow doesn’t feel like tomorrow at all.

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

Neo-Hellene Poets, an Anthology of Modern Greek Poetry 1750-2018

Poem by George Theoharis

VISIBLE COMPLICATION

Eyes of people meet

sometimes.

It could happen March

on a road next to the sea

when strong emotions

flood the air

and the gathered people

that applaud the parade

are unable to explain

why from the shiny bayonets

of the parading soldiers

suddenly a flock

of birds in love appear

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

Tasos Livaditis-Poems, Volume II

ΒΟΥΒΑ ΠΡΟΣΩΠΑ

     “Μή φεύγεις” του λέω, μα εκείνος είχε κιόλας ξεκινήσει με τους

άλλους καταδίκους, μου άφησε μόνο το χέρι του, που συχνά με

κράτησε στην άκρη της γέφυρας, ένα άρρωστο άλογο σάπιζε στην

άκρη του δρόμου, και τις νύχτες άκουγα τους ανεμοδείχτες που το

βοηθούσαν ν’ αλλάξει πλευρό,

      θυμήθηκα το πρώτο βράδυ που θάψαμε τον πατέρα — πως τον

μισούσα γι’ αυτόν το βρόμικο ρόλο του υπηρέτη που έπαιξε, ανοί-

γοντας την πόρτα μας στο μεγάλο σκοτάδι,

      ερημιά, και μόνο οι ραγισμένοι τοίχοι άφηναν να φαίνονται τα

φοβερά, βουβά πρόσωπα, που περνάμε κάποτε πλάι τους.

     Εκεί έζησα τόσο μονάχος, που άκουσα τις άλλες φωνές, κι όταν

νύχτωνε, οι νεκροί μου κλέβαν την κουβέρτα και πλάγιαζαν έξω

απ’ την πόρτα, ώσπου ξημέρωνε και σταυρωνόταν πάνω μου το

λάλημα του πετεινού.

SILENT FACES

    “Don’t go”, I say to him, but he had already started along with

the other convicts; he only left behind his hand that often held me

by the edge of the bridge; a sick horse was rotting away on the side

of the road and at night I would hear the weathervane helping it to

turn to the other side

     I remembered the first night when we buried father — oh, how

I hated him for the role of the servant he played, opening our door

to the great darkness

    forlornness and only the cracked walls made visible the horrible

silent faces we often pass by.

    There I lived so lonely that I heard the other voices and when

night came the dead stole my blanket and lied outside the door

until the new day broke and the rooster’s call was crucified

over my body.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763564

The Medusa Glance

ΣΥΝΑΣΠΙΣΜΟΣ

Συγκεντρώθηκαν απ’ το βορρά

κι από το νότο, απ’ την ανατολή

κι από τη δύση

των εθελοντών συνασπισμός

και συμφώνησαν

οι νεοκεφαλαιοκράτες να επιτεθούν

τη δυτική πλευρά

νεοφιλελεύθεροι να βομβαρδίσουν

τους προς τ’ ανατολικά αμμόλοφους

οι σοσιαλιστές ν’ ασφαλίσουν τα βόρεια

οι λάτρες της ελεύθερης οικονομίας

απ’ το νότο να προελάσουν

ούτε χιλιοστό της χώρας να μην

παρέμενε απόλυτα ελεύθερο

οι φιλάνθρωποι θα έριχναν βοήθεια

συσσίτια σε πλαστικά δοχεία

τηγανισμένο ρύζι, πουρέ

συντηρητικά και χρώμα

τα κράτη συνγκεντρώθηκαν

κι ομόφωνα συμφώνησαν

για των κατοίκων το καλό

τη χώρα έπρεπε να καθαρίσουν

απ’ τα ανεπιθύμητα στοιχεία

κι απ’ την ανέγκυρη ελευθερία της

COALITION

They assembled from north

and south, from eastern lands and

western territories they gathered

the coalition of the willing

and they reached a conclusion

neocons would attack the western flank

neo-liberals would bomb the eastern sand-dunes

the socialists would secure the north 

free marketers would advance from the south

no inch of this country should

be left free to freedom

humanitarians would drop rations

of food in plastic containers

fried rice, mashed potatoes

preservatives and ambience

nations assembled and in unison

they reached an agreement

for the good of the inhabitants

they had to cleanse the land

of undesirable pollutants

and its disallowed freedom

Neo-Hellene Poets, an Anthology of Modern Greek Poetry 1750-2018

POEM BY KOSTIS PALAMAS

IMAGINATION

Come, oh maiden, imagination

and you too ringleader thought

bring all the tireless workers

fairies of the rhythm

and bring the depth of lust

the heights of vision

and bring the flowers

made of gold and marble

the gleaming words

to build a palace and erect

the idol of the Sun inside it

and make it exquisitely great

adorable like a sun ray

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

Wheat Ears, Selected Poems

Duality

And I laughed at the comedian’s joke

as if grabbing onto the ship’s handrail

that I wouldn’t fall into the abysmal

mouth of the monstrous logic

many men appeared hungry for my flesh 

easy it was to talk to the inexplicable

when suddenly I felt the fangs

of the inexorable clock ticking

their strange hymn lamenting

my descent to Erebus, where

I was greeted by family members and after

my uncle Antony’s funeral

we all walked to the proper celebration

surprising them all as I too attended

and they all understood the meaning

of the eagle flying over us as if to confirm

on this earth and under it that we once existed

Yannis Ritsos-Poems, Selected Books

YANNIS RITSOS-POEMS, Selected Books

Η Ελένη/Helen

Ναι, τόσο ανόητοι κι αυτοί σαν κι εμάς· μονάχα πιο ήσυχοι. Ένας άλλος
σηκώνει το χέρι του επίσημα, σα να ’ναι να ευλογήσει κάποιον,
κόβει ένα κρύσταλλο απ’ τον πολυέλαιο, το φέρνει στο στόμα του
απλά, σα γυάλινο καρπό, — θαρρείς θα το μασήσει, θα βάλει σε κίνηση πάλι
μια λειτουργία ανθρώπινη· — όχι· το κρατάει ανάμεσα στα δόντια
έτσι να λάμπει το κρύσταλλο με μάταιες λάμψεις. Μια γυναίκα
παίρνει απ’ το στρογγυλό λευκό βαζάκι την κρέμα του προσώπου
με έμπειρη κίνηση των δύο δακτύλων της, και γράφει
στο τζάμι του παράθυρου δυο παχιά κεφαλαία —κάτι σαν Ε και Θ·—
ο ήλιος ζεσταίνει το τζάμι, η κρέμα λιώνει, στάζει στον τοίχο —
κι αυτό δε θέλει να σημαίνει τίποτα — δυο λιπαρά, σύντομα αυλάκια.


Yes they are as foolish as we are more quiet Someone

           else

lifts his arm solemnly as if to bless someone

he pulls off a crystal piece of the chandelier brings it to his mouth

simply like a glass fruit – you think he will chew on it or he will

           start

a human function again – no he keeps it between his teeth

so the crystal shines with futile flashes A woman

takes her face cream from the small round jar

with the expert movement of her two fingers and writes

two thick capital letters on the windowpane – something like H

           and D –

the sun warms up the glass the cream melts drips down the wall –

and this doesn’t mean anything – two greasy short furrows

Tasos Livaditis – Poems, Volume II

Pancakes

      My good old friend Raphael was standing enigmatically

in front of the window flooded by the sea’s reflection and

the old lost things, “Raphael don’t bother yourself with

the beyond, let it be” I said to him as I was recuperating

from a long illness and I had such strange thoughts: to

extol a star, to love humanity or to become successful as

a poet of short tombstone verses. Until night came, time

when the street boys lick their lips under the full moon

that reminds them of auntie Thecla’s pancakes in the asylum

and the sea infiltrates God’s secrets because after each

difficult day a night comes no one knows how to spend.  

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763564