Μὰ ἐδῶ στὴν ὄχτη τὴν ὑγρὴ μόνο ἕνας δρόμος ὑπάρχει
Μόνο ἕνας δρόμος ἀπατηλὸς καὶ πρέπει νὰ τὸν περάσεις
Πρέπει στὸ αἷμα νὰ βουτηχτεῖς πρὶν ὁ καιρὸς σὲ προφτάσει
Καὶ νὰ διαβεῖς ἀντίπερα νὰ ξαναβρεῖς τοὺς συντρόφους σου
Ἄνθη πουλιὰ ἐλάφια
Νὰ βρεῖς μίαν ἄλλη θάλασσα μίαν ἄλλη ἁπαλοσύνη
Νὰ πιάσεις ἀπὸ τὰ λουριὰ τοῦ Ἀχιλλέα τ᾿ ἄλογα
Ἀντὶ νὰ κάθεσαι βουβὴ τὸν ποταμὸ νὰ μαλώνεις
Τὸν ποταμὸ νὰ λιθοβολεῖς ὅπως ἡ μάνα τοῦ Κίτσου.
Γιατί κι ἐσὺ θά ῾χεις χαθεῖ κι ἡ ὀμορφιά σου θά ῾χει γεράσει.
Μέσα στοὺς κλώνους μιᾶς λυγαριᾶς βλέπω τὸ παιδικό σου πουκάμισο νὰ στεγνώνει
Πάρ᾿ το σημαία τῆς ζωῆς νὰ σαβανώσεις τὸ θάνατο
Κι ἂς μὴ λυγίσει ἡ καρδιά σου
Κι ἂς μὴν κυλήσει τὸ δάκρυ σου πάνω στὴν ἀδυσώπητη τούτη γῆ
Ὅπως ἐκύλησε μιὰ φορὰ στὴν παγωμένη ἐρημιὰ τὸ δάκρυ τοῦ πιγκουίνου
Δὲν ὠφελεῖ τὸ παράπονο
Ἴδια παντοῦ θά ῾ναι ἡ ζωὴ μὲ τὸ σουραύλι τῶν φιδιῶν στὴ χώρα τῶν φαντασμάτων
Μὲ τὸ τραγούδι τῶν ληστῶν στὰ δάση τῶν ἀρωμάτων
Μὲ τὸ μαχαίρι ἑνὸς καημοῦ στὰ μάγουλα τῆς ἐλπίδας
Μὲ τὸ μαράζι μιᾶς ἄνοιξης στὰ φυλλοκάρδια τοῦ γκιώνη
Φτάνει ἕνα ἀλέτρι νὰ βρεθεῖ κι ἕνα δρεπάνι κοφτερὸ σ᾿ ἕνα χαρούμενο χέρι
Φτάνει ν᾿ ἀνθίσει μόνο
Λίγο στάρι γιὰ τὶς γιορτὲς λίγο κρασὶ γιὰ τὴ θύμηση λίγο νερὸ γιὰ τὴ σκόνη...


dear friends, let me give it a try for you
i will try to translate this fragment of the poem called Amorgos by the poet Nikos Gkatsos


but here on this humid shore there is only one way
only one deceiving way and you have to take it
you have to plunge into blood before time catches up with you
and you have to reach the other side to find your brothers again
the flowers the birds the deers
you have to find a different sea a different kind of softness
you have to grasp the reins of Achilles' horses
instead of silently fighting with the river
throwing stones to the river like the mother of Kitsos did.
Because you'd be lost and your beauty too will have grown old.
Inside the branches of the tree i see the shirt of your childhood getting dry
Take it as a flag of your life to shroud death with it
And let not your heart be bent
And let not your tear fall on this merciless land
like the tear of the penguin fell on the icy wasteland.
It does not help to complain
Life will always be the same with the snakes' music in the land of ghosts
with the song of the thιeves in the forests of aromas
with the knife of sorrow onto the cheek of hope
with the grief of spring in the heart of the bird

it is enough if one plough and a sharp scythe on a happy hand were to be found

it is enough if only it grew
a little bit of wheat for the fest a bit of wine for remembrance a bit of water for the dust...

once again i make the connection
i called this blog "τέλος" (telos), which means both
the end and completion-perfection.

What we experience now is not a historic phase which marks the end of a way of life;
it seems to be the end of a whole cultural paradigm.
It seems we have completed our way through this kaleidoscope in terms of
economic orthologism, capitalism, globalization, mass media, development, peripheral cohesion, cloning, homogenising etc which defined ethnic differentiation, viability, environmental movements, pleas for community participation, down-up processes of decision-making etc etc.

There are some people who believe that history moves in circles
that there is no linear way of evolution.
Either way,
this is the end of it all and new meanings are to be created
or it is the end of a historic circle which can only mean
we are doomed to live through it again and again
in different context.

once upon a time
there came the time
when man had to create groups of people
in order to survive
did there exist a sense of differentiation of each person of the group? probably not, at first
societies in their broad meaning inhabit space (πόλεις) and create their way of coexistence
through politics (πολιτική)
there is of course the creation of things and the creation of ideas
but in the course of time
one can hardly draw a clear line between the two
in the advanced part of the world as they call it.
Objects and even human subjects
become actual symbols. The more the latter participate in this world as symbols -a symbol always pressuposes something broader than an individual, because the symbol of this kind is in fact manufactured and promoted and has an unquestionable meaning- the more they are meant to find satisfaction in a false sense of freedom of choice and freedom of living as individuals of their own right.

We are not symbols though nor is the land we stand upon nor is the chair we sit on nor is the bread we live upon.

Do we really have to be left totally bare?
little by little the fog becomes transparent
amongt us

yesterday
another day of those big decisions made for our us
for our future well-being;
lies
and threats
and violence
are meant to finish our treatment
of gradual hypnosis
and unconscientiousness.
This would have led to a civil war.

i, too, make the little notice
in my book
descending from the north, vast amounts of water
rapidly cover the fields and the houses
and the roads are like the rivers
People are out of their home
working for these lands and waters
Shadowy trees appear reappear
to test us on our fear

there is nothing clean and tidy in my house
i mean in my country
except for the dear thought of
the human effort beyond the human obvious limit