1961

Brave Lad

The trees weep, 

the bells and your friends weep.

Manly at work

manly at home

you spoke and our neighborhood

was full of birds.

You stretched out your hand

and plucked the moon

just as Death plucked you

like a flower one night.

The fishing boats weep

the waves and your friends weep.

A stalwart at the oars

a fine fellow at a party.

Secretly the girls embroidered

dreams, the sun, the moon

for you, they embroidered their love

and set sails on it.

The sailors weep

the clouds and your friends weep

Brave lad, your mother wrapped herself in black,

storm and cloud wrapped your friends

the harbor was deserted, the sea abandoned

and the sun stood still and moves no more.

1962

My April

My fair April

and perfumed May

heart, how can you bear up

amidst so much love

and so much beauty.

The neighborhood is full

of songs and kisses

my girl is called Lenio

but I keep it a secret.

My pale star

my moonbeam

my heart hangs

from your delicate brow

like a bird from

a limed twig.

My flower, my sweet flower

and perfumed rose

I’ll come to your mother

to ask for her blessing

and for the mate I love.

1962

The Dream

Mother, you had two sons,

two trees, two rivers,

two Venetian castles,

two mint bushes, two joys.

One went to the East

the other to the West

and you alone between them

speak, you ask the sun:

Sun, who sees the mountains

who sees the rivers too,

wherever you see our troubles

and mothers who are poor,

If you see Pavlos call me,

if you see Andreas, tell me.

I raised them with a sadness

I bore them with a sob.

But they leave mountains behind 

and cross the deep rivers.

Each one seeks the other

to fight him to the death.

And there on the highest peak

up on the highest ridge,

they lie beside each other

dreaming the same dream.

Both run to their mother

lying on her deathbed;

together they reach out

their hands to close her eyes

and they plunge their knives deep

down into the earth

and water gushes out

to drink, to quench one’s thirst.

1962

Lament

1962

The Chain

I turn the heavy chain

into a swallow

I turn the dark prison

into open sky.

Together we cut

the heavy chain

I and you and you and you.

We cut it together

Break the chain with bars!

Make the chain again with waves!

Break the chain with bars!

Make the chain with clouds!

Break the chain with shame!

Make the chain with lilacs!

Break the chain with the hook!

Make the chain with the Reveille!

Break the chain and the prison!

Make the chain body by body!

I turn the chain that speaks

into a thunderbolt!

I turn your luxurious palace

into a prison!

I and you and you and you

make the speaking chain together!

Freedom is won!

Freedom is won!

Kitsos  shouted

Slaves, rise up!

1962

One Evening

One evening

they bound you to the cross.

They drove nails into you,

they drove nails into my entrails;

they bound your eyes,

they bound my soul.

One evening

they tore me in two.

They robbed me of my sight

they took my touch away

they left me only my hearing

so I could hear you, my son.

One evening

like the golden eagle

he soared over the seas

he soared over the fields

he made the mountains bloom 

and all people rejoice.

1962

The Tango of Efialtis

Who doesn’t know Efialtis?

Efialtis was the first traitor!

Then treachery was still a sin!

Gods and men punished the traitor severely.

Who doesn’t know Efialtis?

Later treachery became a profession!

The traitors would go to work,

like the shop-keepers to their stores.

They sold their merchandise

and took their wages every month.

They married amongst each other

so as not to betray the lineage of the race!

And yet the whole world remembered

for so many years the story of Efialtis.

To the point where treachery became a virtue!

It became a duty

an honorable citation was decreed;

“In testimony to the great treachery

of the modest traitor, the fatherland

expresses its gratitude.”

Who remembers Efialtis any more?

1962

Betrayed Love

Midnights when the hours merge

my betrayed love

midnights when our hearts merge

my betrayed love.

Ding, dong, ding, dong, dong,

marks the end of our love.

Two birds, two doves

journey amid the stars.

Midnights when the sun is far away

my betrayed love

midnights when our lives are close

my betrayed love.

Ding, dong, ding, dong, dong

marks the end of love.

Two birds, two doves

journey amid the stars.

Midnights I’ll wait for you

my betrayed love

when the moon disappears in the darkness

my betrayed love.

Ding, dong, ding, dong, dong,

marks the end of our life.

Two birds, two doves

journey amid the stars.

1962

Pavlos and Nikolio

They’re taking Pavlos and Nikolio

on a voyage

in a boat without rigging,

on a ship without shrouds.

Fire burned the rigging

a storm took the shrouds

and the journey of death

has no return.

Together the mothers

of Pavlos and Nikolio go out;

they ask the earth to tell them

and it drips blood.

Those are not groans

that come out of the earth,

only a spring that invites you

to drink and quench your thirst. 

1962

In the Orchards

In the orchards with their flowering gardens

like the old times, we’ll raise the dance

and invite Death 

to drink and sing with us.

Take the clarinet and oboe

and I’ll come with my little baglama ..

Ah, and I’ll come too...

You took me in the fire of battle, Death,

let’s go to the orchards and dance.

In the orchards, with their flowering gardens

if I beat you, Death,  at the wine drinking

if I beat you at the dancing and singing

then grant me a night of life.

Take heart, sweet mother

I am the lad who returned for one glance from you.

Ah, for one glance...!

When I left for the Front, mother

you didn’t come to see me.

You were working for strangers and I took the train alone

the one that carried me out of life....

1963

The Rider in the Sky

The rider in the sky

appeared on the crest

holding the dawn in one hand

and in the other, my life.

The brave man, the brave man

he’ll come this evening at nine

help him, Christ and the Virgin!

The rider on the mountain

appeared in the narrow streets

holding thunderbolts in one hand

and in the other, sighs.

The rider of the sky

brings the dawn with him,

he brings the hand that scatters

and the other hand that reaps.

1963

Five Soldiers

Five soldiers set out

to paint the mountain, they set out

to paint the mountain, they stopped

to paint the mountain, they slept.

Five soldiers slept,

the mountain eats them, they remembered

the mountain drinks them, they dreamed

the mountain spits on them, they were done for.

Five soldiers were done for,

the mountain blooms, they dreamed

the mountain snows, they slept

the mountain sighed, they loved one another

Mother…Mother…Mother…

Five mothers…Mothers…dear Mothers

1967

The Sun and Time

1968

You Are Greek

What you were once you will be again

you must become, you must weep.

So your humiliation can be complete,

so your conquest reaches the roots of the mountains.

You are Greek, you are Greek,

you drink betrayal with your milk,

you drink betrayal with your wine,

so that your humiliation can be complete.

You must see,

you must become.

What you were once

you will be again.

1968

We Are Two

We are two, we are two, the clock strikes eight

turn off the lights, the guard knocks, tonight they’ll come again.

one in front, the others behind

then silence and the same old story.

They strike twice, they strike three times, a thousand and thirteen;

you are in pain and so am I,  but which of us suffers more

only time will tell.

We are two, we are three, we are a thousand and thirteen

we ride on into time

in time, with the rain the blood clots on the wound

and pain becomes a nail.

Avenger, savior,

we are two, we are three, we are a thousand and thirteen.

1968

Time to See

They told you a pack of lies

they tell you lies again today

and tomorrow they’ll tell you lies again.

Your enemies tell you lies

But even your friends hide the truth from you.

Liars promise you false glory

but your friends lull you to sleep with false truths.

Where are you going with false dreams?

It’s time to stop,

time to sing,

time to weep and suffer,

time to see

1968

The Slaughterhouse

1968

Oh Ancient Mountains

Oh ancient mountains,

mountains of Arcadia,

proud mountains,

intractable mountains,

honorable mountains.

Honor became dear,

honor became scarce,

honor is dead.

A child suffers, my child

and fettered, I look at the fir trees;

I have no other hope except the trees.

Arcadia I

1968

My Son is Nine Years Old

My son is nine years old,

nine winters nine summers

we put thunder in his gaze

he holds the seas in his two hands.

He raises his hands high

his back pressed to the wall

they measure the sound of his breath

and poke about in his small heart.

As if we were living in a Jewish ghetto

with monstrous German guards all around.

Zatouna1968: we are living my third exile.  

Arcadia I

1968

High in the Snows of Russia

1968

The Consumer Society

West, your hearing is blocked,

West, your vision is obscured.

The consumer society’s heavy veil

has covered your hearing, 

covered your sight, your soul.

Your civilization is smoking ruins,

your words, mosquitoes that fly

over the swamps of your industrial production

carrying fever, lies, hypocrisy.

Five hundred thousand dead Indonesians

concentration camps in Europe,

exiles beside the Acropolis.

But you don’t hear,

you don’t see.

On a 1969 model, 

you ride at 200 kilometers per hour

towards your death.

1968

I’m European

I’m European, I have two ears,

one to hear with, the other to listen.

If a Czech, a Russian, or a Pole sighs

mankind suffers, the sky falls.

If a Black,  a Greek, an Indian suffers

it doesn’t bother me! Let God worry about it.

(High up there on Hymettos, there’s a secret).

I’m European, I have two ears

one only hears, from the East.

Fascism knocks again on my door

but I’m completely deaf to such sounds

I have one big ear, the other’s very small

and so I calmly reap joy, civilization.

1968

When You Knock Twice

1969

Battle-hymn

Magestic mountains embrace

the rocks, ravines, people, fir trees.

They have seen hordes of Turks and others, conquerors; 

they received the bodies of heroes

and the curses of the brave.

They are still here, the trees that shaded

the sleep of Perdikas 

and the cuckoo that Kolokotronis  never heard

has come to nest in Zatouna.

In vain the guards try to cage my song ;

the ravines carry it on their shoulders

and swiftly lead it to the olive groves.

The mountains of Arcadia are so tall

they dominate the sea

and Pan’s pipes drown out the snarls of the barracks.

Boa constrictors, orangutans, monkeys,

they wear togas, carry scepters

archbishops and commanders-in-chief  shout “Forward” 

and birds’ wings rise behind them.

Terrified heroes abandon the marbles

run away from the verses of poets

hide again on the banks of the Lousios,  in the springs of Mainalos

sharing the shadows with the larks.

Mountain guardians of your valor, my Homeland

the battle-song is your dream and the rifle, your song.

Arcadia VI

1969

To the Unknown Poet

Righas Pheraios, I call on you, you!

From Australia to Canada

and from Germany to Tashkent

in prisons, in the mountains and islands

the Greeks are scattered.

Dionysios Solomos, I call on you, you!

Jailed and jailors

beaten and beaters

commanded and commanders

terrorizers and terrorized

occupiers and occupied

divided in two, the Greeks.

Andreas Kalvos, I call on you, you!

Brilliant, the sun marvels,

the mountains and the firs

the shores and the nightingales marvel.

Cradle of beauty and measure, my homeland

is now a place of death.

Kostas Palamas, I call on you, you!

Never was so much light turned to darkness,

so much bravery to fear,

strength to weakness,

so many heroes turned to marble busts.

Birthplace of Digenis and Diakos , my fatherland

now a land of slavery.

Nikos Kazantzakis, I cry out to you!

But if mortals who still speak

Androutsos’ tongue forget

then memory lives behind iron bars and sentry posts

memory lives in the stones

it nests in the yellow leaves

that cover your body, Greece.

Angelos Sikelianos, I call on you, you!

You are the soul of my homeland

polymorphic river

blind with blood

deaf with moans

incapacitated by hatred

and the great love

that jointly rules your soul.

The soul of my country is two handcuffs

squeezed into two rivers

two mountains bound with ropes

on the terrace bench. 

The Argive plain swollen from whipping

and Olympus hanging from the mast of the aircraft carrier

hands tied behind its back

until it confesses.

The soul of my homeland is this very seed

that spread roots on the rock.

You are mother, wife, daughter

looking out over the sea and the mountains

and secretly dyeing, with your blood

the red eggs of the Resurrection

fertilized by the times and by men.

If only the Easter of the Greeks

would come to my unhappy land!

Unknown poet, I call on you, you!

Arcadia VI     

1969

My Name is Kostas Stergiou

My name is Kostas Stergiou

descendant of the Vizigoths

the Ostragoths, the Mavrogoths.

I live in caves,

I trim clubs,

I drink water out of skulls.

My profession is death

but for the time being I’m serving

the big dragon who has sent me

to Arcadia.

Over my skin

I wear a uniform,

I have two gold stars on my shoulders,

I hide my club carefully

under my cloak.

My name is Kostas Stergiou,

descendant of the Marmelukes,

Mavrolukes and Sosolukes;

I’m a cross between

Neanderthal and wolf

but for the time being I ride in a jeep

terrorizing women and children.

I’m a specialist in searching --

I search for children’s souls

and distill fear.

I impose the law

the law of the big Dragon

who has sent me, for the time being, 

to Arcadia.

Arcadia X   

1969

I Had Three Lives

I had three lives;

the wind took one

the rain the other

and my third life

shut in behind two eyelids

was drowned in tears.

I was left alone

without a life, without lives

the wind took one

the rain the other

I was left alone

I and the Dragon

in the great cave.

I hold a scimitar

I hold a sword

I’ll drown you

I’ll kill you

I’ll wipe you out

I’ll toss you

over my life.

Because I have three lives

one to suffer with, one to wish with

and the third to win with.

1970

Don’t Forget Oropos

The father in exile, the house bereft,

we live in tyranny, in thick darkness.

And you, tortured people, don’t forget Oropos.

The mother cries alone, the trees and birds weep;

in our homeland night is falling, empty embrace.

And you, tortured people, don’t forget Oropos.

Penned behind barbed wire, but our hearts sound

Always the same vow, freedom and progress.

And you, tortured people, don’t forget Oropos.

Oropos, 1969-1970       

1970

Because I did not conform...

Beyond the blue sea

the blue sky

a mother is waiting

it’s years, now, since I saw her.

Because I did not conform to regulations.

Time comes, time goes

I walk behind the barbed wire.

Black days will pass

before I see you again.

Because I did not conform to regulations.

Halicarnassos, Partheni

Oropos, Korydallos 

the fearless young man waits

for the light of freedom,

Because I did not conform to regulations