Greek Poet ILIAS FOUKIS

Greek Poet      ILIAS   FOUKIS
Poetry is the voice of the Gods

Sunday, January 4, 2015

THE INDICTMENT Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS

BIOGRAPHY

The Greek poet ILIAS FOUKIS , was born on 20 August 1969 in Epirus in northwestern Greece. Began to write poetry since 1988 when he was student in the Lyceum. Published volume of poetry THE TESTAMENT OF A LESSER GOD , which has been translated into ten languages including English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, etc.. Has won literary awards - OSCAR DE DOS OURO VENCEDORES, Brazil 2012 - MASSIMO D'AZEGLIO, Italy, 2012, 2013 - CITA DEL GALATEO, Italy in 2013. MASSIMO D;AZEGLIO 2016. His poem titled YOUNG GREEK SOLITARY was included in Poetry Anthology - U.S. Library of Congress. Works and lives in Athens.





THE INDICTMENT 


In all Seasons
I would be able to charge you
with having stolen half my life
in my thinking of you.


The half of my life
which unfolded on this Earth
despite knowing what a disaster would occur
in the thoughts of the living
when by means of the terrible monotony of processions
the depressing result would be announced
of the battle with the patrons
of temporary Existence.


That is also why you were in a hurry
to steal half of the Earth from me
as long as I was thinking about sleeping with you.


The half of my sleep
which unfolded in the Sky
not worried that it would be challenged by a God
from the time when you...
you were dreamlike only on Earth
laying the foundations thus for the Idea
of Eternal Hypnosis
despite the fact we know that Dreams were scandalized
when they were calculated with the dimensions of the Heavens
that was Idea you were wearing
in order to confront
the fierce human winter
impossible to violate.

Because you remained untouched by any desires
all agreements have been broken.

And you accepted walking once more on the Earth
despite the fact you knew there awaited you
the indifference of the wasteland...


But you wanted to climb up to the Sky
knowing that you were outside the love of the living
despite the fact that at the Gate of the heart
you can feel a large multitude
of stars awaiting you there.


Nevertheless I have withdrawn
to the dry lands of the indictment
and rule there on my own.

A strange kingdom this one of mine
having no one at my beck and call
and without being a candle for anyone's fate.


Despite all that setting off now
for my one and only fortune
I see thousands of daydreamers quarrel-ling
about the matter of the bequest.


Happiness...by dear visionaries
is non-existent in the wealth of this property
but in that way...to my surprise
being truly open to the blessings or the blasphemies
of Heaven...
there will be built on it the white Temples of Theology
for the People who even after all this vain futility
will try the Luck
of Existence here on Earth. 


Translation by  PHILIP  RAMP 

PENELOPE Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS


BIOGRAPHY

The Greek poet ILIAS FOUKIS , was born on 20 August 1969 in Epirus in northwestern Greece. Began to write poetry since 1988 when he was student in the Lyceum. Published volume of poetry THE TESTAMENT OF A LESSER GOD , which has been translated into ten languages including English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, etc.. Has won literary awards - OSCAR DE DOS OURO VENCEDORES, Brazil 2012 - MASSIMO D'AZEGLIO, Italy, 2012, 2013 - CITA DEL GALATEO, Italy in 2013. MASSIMO D;AZEGLIO 2016. His poem titled YOUNG GREEK SOLITARY was included in Poetry Anthology - U.S. Library of Congress. Works and lives in Athens.




PENELOPE 


The presumptive lovers are in Ithaca
I don't know where the true lover is. 

To climb the olive trees
perchance to see the true wreath somewhere.


The olive trees are ageless on Ithaca
and like the glory of this island
do not dream of height
nor fear death.


In short
in regard to immortality they are serene
the pleasure their gigantic trunks will feel
besieged by the desire
to become a presumptive bed.

To climb the waves of the sea
perchance to take me to the true wreath.
 


I fear the low spiritual level
of the world's seas
which will drag little Ithaca
along the Earth...
which never would accept becoming sea 
and raising envy like a threatening mast
with the blessings of Poseidon
for good luck and a good time on Ithaca
they become a presumptive wreath. 


In order to turn my face from the sky
and pray for the true lover.



The sky was born on Ithaca
it was utterly debased the moment it left there
and enraged by the devotion
I show for Odysseus
along with a whole raft of cynics and petty souls
which rules the roost up there
for this brilliant Virtue of ordinary mortals
will be blinded by the foggy hate.
of becoming a presumptive bed.


To spread my arms to the horizons
perhaps at some point to touch the true wreath.


The sleeping leaders 
who are not bothered by the black omens of Troy.

They will awake from the delicate hands
of a Beautiful Woman 
cursing sleep and dreams 
which have almost deprived them of being
what else..? .. And the ugly old men
are looking forward to a sex party. 

In order to wait for a warm Mediterranean wind
that will perhaps show me the course Odysseus ` ship
has taken.

Despairing Penelope...
don't make such mistakes..! 

All the winds are cold
and lead exclusively to Troy.


They will hurl you there as well 
if you keep company with faithless beauty
which put a wreath on the world's brow
demonic and calamitous 
and then the world would suffer once again 
because all Troy
will take breath from the ashes of destruction
act coarsely
and seize virgins.



I consider then to be the most serious 
and dangerous suitors
who will continue to lay claim to me 
like the dirty men
who turned their back on Troy in flames
because they were more enchanted 
by the winds of the loneliness of a single woman
and then scattered by an unconscious horizon 
have then nullified the conscience of the world
in order to carry out these wretched feats...



But when you get down to it
to carry on the scandal myself as well
so they won't take me for a nothing
I would like to say straight from the shoulder
that these suitors who have colonized Ithaca
as the seas have done to the of Odysseus
have such weak male faces 
it's as if they've been washed off
completely expressionless that is
as pale as dust..

And they cannot face
the femininity of Penelope.


Translation  by  PHILIP  RAMP 


THE EXISTENCE OF APHRODITE Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS



BIOGRAPHY

The Greek poet ILIAS FOUKIS , was born on 20 August 1969 in Epirus in northwestern Greece. Began to write poetry since 1988 when he was student in the Lyceum. Published volume of poetry THE TESTAMENT OF A LESSER GOD , which has been translated into ten languages including English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, etc.. Has won literary awards - OSCAR DE DOS OURO VENCEDORES, Brazil 2012 - MASSIMO D'AZEGLIO, Italy, 2012, 2013 - CITA DEL GALATEO, Italy in 2013. MASSIMO D;AZEGLIO 2016. His poem titled YOUNG GREEK SOLITARY was included in Poetry Anthology - U.S. Library of Congress. Works and lives in Athens.





THE EXISTENCE OF APHRODITE




The thought you are leaving
ceaselessly irrevocably from me
has brought to a halt at the Gates of my heart
the motion of Stars..Birds...
Dreams.... Thoughts
and all the Planets
at exactly the point of their happiest days.


Despite all that
such unconscious imaginings
die early
and there is a great likelihood
that as soon as the funeral service of Matter
has been eradicated from my suspicions 
you will come back to me one day again.


But nothing will change
regarding the consequences of that Procession 
because since I never wanted to be alone
I would ask you...


Where were you so long?
Since the creation of the World?
With whom?
Finally..how could you yourself have been anywhere ?

The Stars...
in their light
not able to stand the cold of loneliness
hoping that virility
will be glowing somewhere else...
 

The birds
whose motion will remind you
how you too could seek out another roof...


The thoughts
how they convinced you that you Exist..!
 

The Dreams
with which this landscape has misted over
you would have asked something more from nature...



Finally...All the Planets
going round them
the one after the other 
believing that you were somewhere...
well then, all these were in me...! 



Translation by  PHILIP  RAMP

THE LAST OF HOMER Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS




BIOGRAPHY

The Greek poet ILIAS FOUKIS , was born on 20 August 1969 in Epirus in northwestern Greece. Began to write poetry since 1988 when he was student in the Lyceum. Published volume of poetry THE TESTAMENT OF A LESSER GOD , which has been translated into ten languages including English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, etc.. Has won literary awards - OSCAR DE DOS OURO VENCEDORES, Brazil 2012 - MASSIMO D'AZEGLIO, Italy, 2012, 2013 - CITA DEL GALATEO, Italy in 2013. MASSIMO D;AZEGLIO 2016. His poem titled YOUNG GREEK SOLITARY was included in Poetry Anthology - U.S. Library of Congress. Works and lives in Athens.







THE LAST OF HOMER



Today the season called autumn begins. 



As the leaves began to fall

and me an Old Man
my thoughts also began to fall
and I would like to speak this once
to autumn -- about autumn. 


It doesn't continue on from here... 



I am abandoned, one after the other,

like the World
by the Grand hallucinations of Genesis
the metaphors...
the allegories...
the symbols... 


They return to Greece with life

and leave me with death in Troy. 


That is why I move along behind them

to see at long last one clean day
bringing thus this Epic to a definitive close
and with Classical diction find a measure of happiness
because Happiness is the Divine Cause
even for its own Beginning.



But I'm afraid

that for the Modern critics of the Future
to whom
autumn may arrive
as eternal dark
my words about autumn -- to autumn
as if nothing was going on
might then be incorporated into a chapter
of the Iliad or the Odyssey
and thus its better if... I grow still.


Translation by  PHILIP  RAMP

GOD'S MASTERPIECE Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS


BIOGRAPHY

The Greek poet ILIAS FOUKIS , was born on 20 August 1969 in Epirus in northwestern Greece. Began to write poetry since 1988 when he was student in the Lyceum. Published volume of poetry THE TESTAMENT OF A LESSER GOD , which has been translated into ten languages including English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, etc.. Has won literary awards - OSCAR DE DOS OURO VENCEDORES, Brazil 2012 - MASSIMO D'AZEGLIO, Italy, 2012, 2013 - CITA DEL GALATEO, Italy in 2013. MASSIMO D;AZEGLIO 2016. His poem titled YOUNG GREEK SOLITARY was included in Poetry Anthology - U.S. Library of Congress. Works and lives in Athens.







GOD'S MASTERPIECE



Written in the desert on Desertion
Gods Masterpiece...


It violates the rules of
the Art of Writing
with absolutely no trace of Humanism
mocking everyone
with an absurd use of Exaggeration
which neither more nor less
is what the Human Being must silently accept
and even be pleased
with his end and his utter demolition...



And worst of all...
that afterward Heaven will have the last word
and like a beast will open its Gates
to keep the human being 
far from the sins of Earth!



This...God says
is his obligation to the World
to take human flesh and bone
and make them soul...
but without
having the right to breath!



Just as you hear the Procession that accompanies a person
who leaves behind a crown with barbs
adorned with complaint and anger
about this God who brought him into the World
and now...
violently imposing his will
takes him back. 



Translation by  PHILIP  RAMP 

FATALISM Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS


BIOGRAPHY

The Greek poet ILIAS FOUKIS , was born on 20 August 1969 in Epirus in northwestern Greece. Began to write poetry since 1988 when he was student in the Lyceum. Published volume of poetry THE TESTAMENT OF A LESSER GOD , which has been translated into ten languages including English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, etc.. Has won literary awards - OSCAR DE DOS OURO VENCEDORES, Brazil 2012 - MASSIMO D'AZEGLIO, Italy, 2012, 2013 - CITA DEL GALATEO, Italy in 2013. MASSIMO D;AZEGLIO 2016. His poem titled YOUNG GREEK SOLITARY was included in Poetry Anthology - U.S. Library of Congress. Works and lives in Athens.





FATALISM


I will always set upon my way
with a river commencing on its own…

The river is very narrow
and I don’t believe it will enlarge
my fate.

The only thing I hope for
is speed.

Praise be to Apollo
you a being so incredible
I will dream of you all at one go.

But walking along
the Dream will be transformed into nightmare
because from the anonymous cries
exasperated waves
will clash with the shores of the World
which can be heard sharp and clear.


You who with theatrics
and the speed of rivers
wanted to crown human visions
withdraw now with Idealism both of you defeated
and see how hopelessly has been flooded
the Promised Land.


And thus the river has put into gear my Dreams
which will apparently endow
the waterfalls with winged abilities
and that same moment when all the world
will be pulled down
my Dreams will be lifted high.

But I along with the Dreams
also have my own life to live.


They have sworn
that the one will never part from the other
and its beside the point that on the road
the naive buyers of hope stretched out their hands…
and even more beside the point
that around life and the Dreams
there is in force a hostile space…
and the weighty life can be smashed to bits
by this violent fall.

But then again who knows?

The Holy River is perhaps sad
                                          about wretched life
and this savage fall…
omnipotent…
              tempestuous…
                            inevitable…
as if the trees along the coast had been transformed
into humble supplicants
it carries it out without a hitch!



Because just so you’ll know
oh! you the fortunate ones on earth
from the moment the rivers sent me forth
all of the emotions which escaped the catastrophe
I then scattered at the entrance to the seas
and as they will be dressed in my own fate
they will stand in for me in the open sea
never to return again to this earth so desolate.

It would be better if this…occurred!


Who knows what’s going on in this eternal damnation
since not everyone has the possibility
of ascending as the Blissful
or descending as the Unfortunate…
and as they surrender to this tragic
                                                        helplessness
the only answer to the question
What does it mean to have once existed on this Earth?
they interpret as boiling down to
never having the possibility                                                         
                                                        of ever going back…
toward eternal tranquility…
                                                                      these rivers.


Translation by   PHILIP RAMP 

THE POOR MAN IN COURT Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS


BIOGRAPHY

The Greek poet ILIAS FOUKIS , was born on 20 August 1969 in Epirus in northwestern Greece. Began to write poetry since 1988 when he was student in the Lyceum. Published volume of poetry THE TESTAMENT OF A LESSER GOD , which has been translated into ten languages including English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, etc.. Has won literary awards - OSCAR DE DOS OURO VENCEDORES, Brazil 2012 - MASSIMO D'AZEGLIO, Italy, 2012, 2013 - CITA DEL GALATEO, Italy in 2013. MASSIMO D;AZEGLIO 2016. His poem titled YOUNG GREEK SOLITARY was included in Poetry Anthology - U.S. Library of Congress. Works and lives in Athens.








THE POOR MAN IN COURT

The observers foresee that
at least once in my life
I will find Justice.



What kind of face will my Justice have..!
How old will it be..!
Its wallet...will it be empty or full..?



I am certain
that the words for my protection
will be borrowed from extinct languages
because for the moment
there is no intelligible dictionary
to protect me.



So as you can see
my justice will be very old.



The experts who will encounter on the road to their
professional advancement as if it were a corpse
will be shaken seeing it.



They will dare look at only the skull
covered will the inscriptions of a life that was lost
where it is said clearly and without self-deception
that along with people the Sun also falled
to shine with that light
that was not worth ceding to mortals...
that the Bygone Chaos of grand depictions
and who knows what wisdom of tangible Gods
would have been given to the figures of the World.



But as for the remainder
the chest..the joints...the spine
from the moment they heard the black tidings
that the Gods of Justice have never been tangible
and driven to despair by the vanity of the World
kept in operation
the body of Hell...there amid the chasms.



In all that concerns expectations...
Dreams....
Sensitivities...
and other Greek virtues
most probably...
through a lonely hopeless wandering
all will then be within us.



The lawyers however don't really care
about the Greek Virtues
and the Truths of the Soul.



They want material testimony...
specific...
tangible...
while this time as well I
appear to be very poor...
despte the fact my Justice is
as the counsels would call it...
.... Eternal.


Translation by
PHILIP RAMP