John,

Here are some translations I have previously posted.  I don't recall whether
I specified that they be for the translation project.  Please consider for
the translation project.

vasili



RED LIPS

I kissed red lips
and mine were stained
I wiped them on the handkerchief
and the handkerchief was stained
I washed it in the river
and its waters were stained
and the edge of the shore was stained
and the middle of the sea
An eagle came down to drink water
and its wings were stained
and half the sun was stained
and all the moon.


(Greek traditional)



YOU ARE RELEASED FROM YOUR ILLNESS


My soul is fasting from passions
and my whole body follows.
Only the necessary desires
and my skull constantly a place of repentance
where prayer takes the form of a dome.
Lord I belonged to your enemies
but you are now the one who refreshes
my face like a sweet breeze.
You planted in me joyful mourning
and around me
all now live and shine.
You lift the stone and the snake
goes and vanishes.
>From dawn until the setting of the sun
I remember that you once had flesh and bones for me.
Night, as you commanded, covers me softly
and sleep of which I used to say that its cloak
is made of a thousand darknesses
the small redeemer - as I used to say -
delivers me humbly into your hands.


(Nikos Karouzos)



SEVEN-COLOURED CONSCIENCE


After the sun has dined comes the sigh
revived in spear-like spurts.
The trees are more courageous
and that is why I envy them.
But the darkness of the pit when it comes down to it
is not of the eyes.
We have, of course, refraction to comfort us.
Nevertheless we do not enjoy it.
We need to unstitch every fantasy.
To throw out divisions.
The pure contemplation of objects is a peculiar activity...
The voiceless lizard on the sun-drenched rocks when it breathes
lacrymosa.
The haughty rooster
when it grieves at daybreak.


(Nikos Karouzos)


THE PURPOSELESS TRAVELLER

In his viscera thrilled the impasse
As he walked he did not perceive the distances
And his mouth sang all alone
Param pam pam
Parim pam pom...
Death wants birds and counter-weights.
Param pam pam
parim pam pom...
There is a tomorrow
there is also a day after tomorrow.
A new coffin or a new day.


(Nikos Karouzos)



TREMORS

...Blessed is he when
death has inundated him
demolishing his speech
as if it were stuffed with snow
and the world's wing were numbed;
blessed is he who is shaken by the enigma of mint.

Blessed is Theophilos who was sanctified with a helmet
Blessed is Count Dionysios Solomos
leading pure light from the little threshing floor, blessed,
when he would cease to write
and wrote deep inside his soul
drinking.

That is why poetry comes out with the sheep
it caresses the incurable little bitches.


(Nikos Karouzos)




DENIAL


At the beach that was hidden
and white like a dove
we thirsted at noon
but the water was brackish.

On the blonde sand
we wrote her name.
How beautifully the breeze blew
and the writing was erased.

With what heart, with what spirit,
what pains and what passion
we lived our life: Mistake!
and so we changed our life.


(George Seferis)



And the poem I posted a few days ago:



THE WALL WITH MANY WINDOWS


I shall build a wall with many windows
it shall be exposed to the wind
with riggings and sails on its sides
so it can travel through time
faces shall fortify the windows
bodies shall scramble on the riggings
waves of fragrances
shall envelop it in the evenings.

I shall build it stone by stone
I shall engrave it with prayers
and I shall even dare
to dedicate it to you
to stand before you
definitively
like a fog and like a voice
it shall be described as a sail-bearer and a refuge
it shall give you sleep and words
the doubtfulness of hopes.

Behind each window
shall wait a booty
or a sorrow.
The little hunchback lady who lay in the park
and was resting her back in a small hollow
ecstasies and objects
that await.
You will be favoured with my love
my cat
my strength and my freedom
the sacred ornaments of sorrow.
Behind another window
a newborn shall be crying
eros, the battle
a spider's web
Anonymous and Sorrowful.
And a trunk from the Wisdom of Sirach:
For this reason treasures were unearthed
and clouds did spit as birds.
Ah, yes, I forgot the birds of the sky
but they shall be roosting on the window sills
to protect themselves from draughts
and other bold ones
shall grip the riggings
with the old salts.

You shall live with this spectacle of goodness
and you shall open your arms
to the dreamings of the wall
You shall be free or not
to accept its influence
and I
shall not hesitate
to play the jailer and the host
despite my dislike of intervening in others' life

And all these things that I write today
the wall, you and I
we shall escape from a cycle of horror
we shall be purified by grace
and we shall win
the real meaning of friendship
as we ascend the steps
of the end of the age
to be dissolved
into God's final phrase.


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