Greek Poet      ILIAS   FOUKIS
Poetry is the voice of the Gods

Sunday, August 12, 2018




                                                     ‘’...Race of Cain
                                    May  your rage reach heaven itself
                               and may it hurl God down to Earth...’’



The way the Sun positions himself
in the sky                                                                    
... is called Autonomy
as they promised me when I was born
after lengthy proceedings
would be bestowed on me...
without the wreath of Glory being removed
                                          from the Classics of Thought
and without Holy Scripture being scandalized
by the inglorious end of humankind...
...after death. 


Yesterday our Chances went up in flame
because the sun
came to close.
Yesterday as well:
our Chances went cold
because who knows what happened
at the Holy Sermons of Wisdom
that made them take the prerogative of Light from us.

Yesterday the masts of our ships were destroyed
in the quest for Direction
as things reached storm much Wind.
Yesterday as well:
we were unable to set off
on our quest for Direction
because we were left Becalmed.

Yesterday our dreams were inundated
because it rained so hard.
Yesterday as well:
our Dreams were unable to grow
because Tantalus that jinx
was in such a hurry to bid farewell to Earth...

and, as you well know, we were left rainless.

Yesterday our heads went numb
in the quest for God
because there was so much Sky overhead.
Yesterday as well:
it was impossible to lift our heads
in the quest for God
because there was no Sky left at all.


Of late 
I’ve begun to keep a picture of a Saint
on my pillow.

The Saint
immobilized by his familiar dilemma
as to whether he should or should not exist in this world
is frozen there...
quite frozen...
until I’m forced to light a candle in front of him
perhaps...whose knows...
hell slowly thaw and slip away from there.

I always believed that when he did leave
it would be with me, the unavoidable Divine Servant,
he would take me by the hand
to persuade the Major Markets of the world
that the following mistake happened quite by accident:
the Abyss had adopted the most precious
passions of Paradise
and in consequence of this summit treaty
I ended up broke.

The Merchant Princes would for the moment accept
the Saints biblical explanation
but despite all that
they would coerce him through various ploys
                                          to return to the Picture
as an Infallible Presence...
because the empty space might be filled
                            with Demons
who have of late seriously threatened
the Global Market.

The Saint who in the final analysis
is the child of mischievous Jerusalem
has appropriated rather well the art
of neutralizing Heaven
at particular magical moments
such as when payments are made in hard cash
when the soul of man
seems to be of the most delicate velvet
and immediately...
                                          through an amazing biological marvel
is transformed into a human being.

Into one of those completely remote people
who unite themselves with the cries of the Underworld
‘’...Money is everything...
that’s what rules the world...’’
and after the collapse of Idealism in Jerusalem
rush like the expectations of Pontius Pilate
to open the slave market in Rome.

He would accept the money
in keeping with Jewish principles of profit
in keeping with the insatiability of the entire World
and with these the remaining Saints would be bought off
which would then make my poverty eternal
and increase the number of the poor.


Who knows how many times
we will be happy!

Surrounded by mountains as we were
and without receiving an answer from anyone
regarding this state of siege right from birth
we measured the dimensions of valleys
which were as narrow as our own passions
in the hope they would hold the future
such a remote starting point 
knowing all too well
what scandals occurred during the modifications of Genesis
as if it wanted to tell us that it will always be difficult
for a future to exist...
it had hurled ours behind the mountains.

Because the way the Fog lay along the mountains
was divine and Classic...
(Literally more awe-inspiring than
the peculiar presence of the greenery)
it seemed to us it knew by heart
the inner content of the mountains.
Then we also called out to Dreams...
the forecasts were ready as well
for the programming of the brilliant process
that in all likelihood would lead to a favorable Biblical 
end to the transfer of our Future.
Do you understand what we are trying to say or not?

We had been put on alert as regards the Future...
The Future has to be conquered come what may...
which perfumed with the mysterious passions of Abel
was exactly like a beautiful woman
who no one knows whom she may have yielded to.

And indeed that’s the way it went...
In contrast to our expectations
something really strange occurred...!
A wind snatched the Fog from us
so it slipped through the encirclement
the stars had built round it.
Our Dreams were stolen from us by the Final Hour
because it too
had found itself surrounded by the ages.
From what I remember
there was great mobility.
The sacred ceremonies scattered blessings
wove encomia
granted privileges.
All  the World was celebrated under the oracle
of an invisible Seer
in that far-off beginning of History.
Expectations were all that we had left
and, let’s face it,
though possessed by Witches
they had revealed an amazing talent
at predicting our Future.
And were ready
to spring into action...
But what good is Happiness do you?
The mountains have lost the ability
to be moved.


As we ended daydreaming
this meant the placement of the signs 
on Earth had also come an end
and now was the proper moment
to make our way down
in quest of golden things.

In agreement with the Dream forecasts
Luck would be found on the first level
which based on the recommendations of the Magicians                            
                                                                      of Paradise...
would be luminous
and delivered
of all the groans of Earth.

Since we would have luck in our own hands
there were many possibilities on the next level
according to one utterly faithful to
Ancient Astrological Legend
we would encounter Love.

And since the Earth would have loved us
finally, on the third level,
as the instructive Spirit
of the Founders of Genesis bore witness to
all the possibilities would lead to Happiness.
So you’ll understand just how serious we were
in this Quest for Happiness
                                          in the depths of Earth
I need only say that to be absolutely certain
the plan made clear that the searchers
had to be very careful
because our mysterious Earth
kept fire in her pockets
which was capable of setting our
                                          golden things aflame.

- Don’t worry...someone consoled us.
Our beloved Earth
keeps streams of water there within
so we can put out these dangerous fires
in an emergency...

And thus bit by bit
from Dream to ordeal
from ordeal to anxiety
the Earth finally opened up.

I imagine you understand...
We were sure that at last
we had before us
(despite the fact this was not aspired to
by a single written document in the World)
an unblemished day.
Unfortunately, however,
the Earth while continuing to be ours
held nothing back especially for us
because she had never dreamed
of any future for her own self
and the existence of golden things
never even came up.

And indeed
it was precisely from this indifference of hers
the water which was the lightest of all
had risen high 
and our hopes so unavoidably fiery
were extinguished
                                                        on the first level.


If we could gather together
all the empty hours of our life...
that is all those hours
which never were alive
then with those
could be created
                            so many human lives
it would be necessary for all
the dead to rise
so they might live from the beginning again.


This curve must not be taken
or must be taken with care.
Nevertheless it is time we remind you that...
Our dreams have walked straight ahead
cautiously so that no one else might realize 
them at the curve...

Our days which have not been lighted by any Sun
have always walked straight ahead
carefully so that no one else might live them 
at the curve...

Our thoughts hesitantly liberal
and thus not taken into account
have walked uncompromisingly straight ahead
because there was always some rascal
to make theater of the curve.

Our Ardor...
wretched because it lacked in worldly luminance
and was also as it were a piece
of this sober world
walked completely straight ahead
with that tragic circumspection that someone else would
                                          finish it off at the curve.

our life a sum of inexplicable movements
so the bones of Dead Matter wouldnÕt tremble
walked completely... and only straight ahead..
always straight ahead...

Because playing at Height and Depth
it could not be represented in History
as Pain and Charity had been proclaimed 
unavailing and ridiculous for those burnt
by the hysteria of creeping upon Earth.

Of that nightmarish walk of an entire World
that was always indifferent to heights and depths
since its temporary Existence
as the rectors of the World said in muted tones
was unable to endow itself with
                                          for it was not its own
such large goals.

But aside from life and that other
a few sins were still left to us
the philosophical eruption of which
we searched for in the course
our desolate fate
would follow within this calamity
the lawlessness of which
                            as it was only human
was transformed into a candle
with the flame of which
the dark Idols warmed themselves...
lighted the way...and lifted off.

But this tragedy
appears to be nearing catharsis
and that is why you must now say it too Cain
father of our mortal despair
because despite overcoming chasms
and crossing Dismal Deserts
it appears we are unwanted
by the Divine Spirit and the Laws of the Republic
that we might then walk down White Roads.

And indeed...precisely because of this stealthy
all the curves we were not able to take
like typical receivers of the microcosm and misery
through a nightmarish presence of a perfectly perpetrated crime
we have them then before us...

Do you understand or not?

We find no justice in life
but for the sake of an Ancient Wisdom
all curves must be taken
because when the end of life draws near
you will be content with yourself
since amid this pandemic hostility
you at least...stood proud.

Or perhaps then again
you, Race of Cain,
so as not to give offence to your Virtue
will pull back once more
being the Truest Truth of the world
Unfortunate...and Forthright.



I would have even been to deny him
deaths coming
but that wasn’t meant to be
because behind me
the black past will remain
so invisible...
so lifeless...
so desolate...
so no Earth will exist at all
on which to sow the objection - Why should I die?
which would as well be a dismissal
from the life that never ever was.


Yesterday a painter approached me
and suggested I hold my outstretched arms
as still as I could.

Its said that through such standard positioning
humanity becomes closer
in a quite marvelous manner
and those passing by come into contact
with my outstretched arms
which is a serious reason for the agitation
of people
so when they die they will suggest to the rest of the dead
that they beg fearlessly for a dime’s worth of resurrection
from paradise...
because the bodies that do not provoke any feeling
have moved into the living world.

This proposal will provoke irritation
among the governors of hell.

But immediately afterward the Fine Arts will intervene
with their romantic paintings
of Unforgettable Sunsets
where the fire of the Soul is united with the fire of the Sun
and who knows how many other idiocies will be born
in the light-hearted visions of the Romantics.
This is enough to soothe strained nerves
and Hell and Paradise
those bitter and uncompromising foes
psychological and philosophical enemies
will now enjoy give and take between themselves.

E.g.: Someone from the hopeless depths
weighted down with the hump of sins
will denounce Paradise to the World.
Because ever since he accepted as his backdrop
these weary aspects
he has himself committed sins
but despite these will not accept the slightest threat
of dethronement...

And worst of all: the only revolutionary voice
for Truth and Justice
will be abolished by Paradise
swathing it with the silk
of money...
of Beautiful Women...
and the Virtuous Citizen.

Yes, yes, such sordidness will occur
where having enjoyed
all the goods of the world
an agreement is reached
whereby long-term animosities
must one day come to an end.
So when you get down to it
whatever way things might be
they will live.
Only I...
non-existent in the eyes of the World
will never dream of height
so I might ascend to where only the mountains are visible.

On those nightmarish...
                                          and pitiless heights
global interest has now been focused
in order to explain the poetics
of the quarrel of the Sun with Hard Matter
regarding the ambition of phantoms
to acquire the Classical Pose of Mountains.

But if that is possible
I would then say that I am the highest phantom
who would be able to win without a battle
and without cosmogonic   confutations
the eternal placement of those mountains.
Without the slightest chance however of delighting in 
the joys and torments of immortality
because there would then pass before me
that bad old world once again
that would remain just as indifferent
as now when I am
                            (even though it isn’t worth the effort)
And indeed then when my presence
would have been transformed into eternal air
that the world itself would breathe
not having a worthy Temple
                            wherein to confess its sins
and something more -- the World would even be
indifferent to it’s very self.


Because life commences with the phrase
--Walk straight ahead...
with our freedom to dream
which has never been lacking
we find a point somewhere
and draw a line.

We entrust dreams to this
but they
commanded by the virtues of the race
to be impetuous
                                                        flee far...
remain decisively at a dead point
unlikely to be touched by us...
and so the Dreams are gone...
                                          well not see them again.

Being people without weight (without dreams) as we are
the wind carries us round the others
whose history is also conducted
under the nightmarish concept of Geometry
and under the Sign of a general global catastrophe
we draw a circle.

But only a fiend knows why
whole mountains wrapped in eternal ice 
enter this curved live 
deep ravines
and a host of other impediments
and thus we return to where we began.
                                                        So as you can see
we failed at these two simplest shapes
of the geometric life...

Think now of our further existence
under the domination, let’s say, of the Cube!

Who will detach this boundless sky
so we may once and for all dethrone Paradise?

But who will carry Hell round on their Backs
in order to place it on top like a lid
with the intent of punishment and the eternal conclusion
to this topsy-turvy farce?

Our life passed without us ever learning
how to adapt to this deadly geometry
where now as night has fallen
on our dreams
we confirm that this is the most correct explanation
for the fatalism of Human life on Earth
which evolved within these narrow
planetary dimensions.

And now with a strange kind of self-restraint
we have strewn over an open field
the passions, the visions...
and whatever is seething inside us
awaiting from any and all directions
the writers who will compose the biographies for us
and who with their well-known genius
will chastise everything...
it is expected we will be shut up in a square
to keep History under the strictest


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...
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
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.


The most vicious attacks
on my life
have always commenced from the left.

They seem cruel...quite irresistible
and I turn back to the realm of grief
observing that my forces are few
and that out there waiting for me again
the open arms and altar of calamity....

Not because of the devastation of Consciousness 
(nothing like that has ever happened to me)
but for the standard reason that I
have always loved liberty and
my horizons have always been open.

On these horizons however...
On these open horizons is also found the bad part of freedom
because it is precisely from there the Evil Hour draws near
with its storms and its lethal bitter cold
while a howl can be heard
like a Holy Sermon...
...Thus the World is humbled...
But what no one
expected is what will occur.

My death is a reality
in the consciousness of everyone
which narrow and rotten as it may be
will fall to its knees before my own resistance
but which will be transformed into Legislation
for the detonation of Visions.

Someone offers to start the game
on special kinds of terrain where the human being
has the rare opportunity
to be the victor without barbarizing the passions
and as I myself like this proposal
and am making an amazing dash from the right
and what happened after is considered scandalous.
I wanted to leave the dark behind...

Whether its Patrons wanted it or not
the dark was in fact left behind...
but from the right as well
I was oriented to the view I was here
                                          on Earth and alive
a kind of corrupt and revolting light
and the course is murky
and the enemies equally inhuman.

There in utter ease
they hurl me down...they insult me...they strike me
and around me the Dialectic
shows no sign of existence...
because as the the   Supreme Lawgivers think
for me it is far too early
for there to be Justice in this World.

If there is no Justice
Stoic resistance returns
                                          to its own terrain
and while I was considering dribbling my black thoughts
in an explosive manner slipping along the ground
suddenly a pass was sent my way
of such dramatic value
for the expectations contained in Dreams.

Those present there....
the grimmest spectators in our world
readied their stupid Invention
in order to see the world pulled down.
But I knew from where this pass would be coming to me.

It is the world ladies and gentlemen
which I suffer differently than you
and so that it might be the victor at least once
I allow it to pass serenely over me...
warning it that with the Dreams it’s carrying
an unenviable take-off is being prepared for it
by the Lords of Earth.
-You should have taken the shot, you mutt...
howl the Giants of Money
who darken...turn black
and who then remind me that I am very poor
and belong to the lowest class of society
which this time as well
timidly and humbly as always respected
the rules of the Game
                                          and the lines on the Field...
sacrificing the few desires that had remained
to the Pantheon of Tyranny.

It was pointless to stay on the Field
I who want to stay here as a Man on Earth
and I loaded the shattered bodies 
and carried them off within me.
But is this world which soon
will erase me from memory
all conscience has been demolished.

Far off now at the point
where another human History will begin
I clutch as if they were wounds
the recollections of the games on Earth
which could very well be called
ideals in a mortuary
waiting for them to die.

Hunted by death
I have got this far
because no one desired my Victory
which is why I am eternally one defeated
by the wretchedness of the world
which has crushed me with the storms
of its cynicism
precisely there in the fatal dispute
over the Philosophy of Human Triumph.

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 with the inscriptions of a life that was lost
where it is said clearly and without self-deception
that along with people the Sun also failed
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...
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...
while this time as well I
appear to be very poor...
despite the fact my Justice is
as the counsels would call it...



As you can well imagine
at the great game
of Exclusion from Dreams
I was very weak
and completely without protection.

That is
mortally struck
by the most ferocious passions in the World.

Nevertheless you
well-versed in entertaining yourselves from afar
with the traumas of the Defeated
are able to spread wide your imagination
reckoning that the primary aim of the game
must have been the extinguishing of the fires
which melt the ice of the heart
with the idea of blocking life
at the highest point of sentimentality.
Yes, yes, my good sirs...
That is exactly the way things are.

You’re not wrong.
I would imagine that with your abilities
you are rationally irreproachable
in the explanation of great disasters.
I who was completely cut-off
from the mad race of Global Notions
I believe that I must have launched some kind of attack
of a revolutionary nature: You will be destroyed...
but from what I can remember I must have drawn back
when they made the observation
that I was very young
and when it came to such showdowns of influence
I would never grow up anyway.

The places that were emptied by the eternally Defeated
were supplemented in such a way
you were left to understand
that Philosophers liked
to a practically cynical extent
to be compared to rivers.

And truly in that way...maturing
they absorbed during their Meditation
all the currents of History
and Humanity ran
with the dry rivers at its side
in order to achieve the Games aim.

With finality
whoever was lost was lost
whoever was demolished was demolished
whoever was ravaged was ravaged
ending at a point
where everything appeared to have stayed behind.
It was only natural that
the tributes of heroes were handed out
to the players who exceeded all expectations.

They went to be photographed in front of the Sun
and the black shadow of the Victors
covered the entire World.

Translation  by  PHILIP   RAMP