Greek Poet      ILIAS   FOUKIS
Poetry is the voice of the Gods



The Greek poet ILIAS FOUKIS , was born on 16 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. 


If such be
the will of the God on Earth
without needing to sing the praises of Zeus
today I...
             will walk all day on the Earth. 
And more importantly
as soon as I glimpse the secure distance
I've kept from death...
praise be to Apollo...
I will not be disturbed
            by the demon of Self-Destruct

If such not be
the will of the God of the Heavens
then my dreams
which lay siege to the essence of Existence
will like Sisyphus
            be caught in the nightmare of pointless labor
so not even one meter of heaven will be granted...
and do you know where these Dreams
for a better World
and a Beautiful Greece will end?

Unobserved and slowly

they will be eaten by the rust
            and the dust of forgetfulness. 

If such be
the will of the God of the Sea
my own specters which are armed
with gravity of conscience and forgiveness
will then have the rare opportunity
of washing away the living sins of Troy
which have become the most dangerous Olympus
with their cynical anticipation
be the Eternal Greece before the eyes of the world.

If such not be

the will of the God of Fire
then I who know better the fatal bond
of Greece with Flames
will lose my last
to show mercy
and the Cities will continue
to quietly burn. 

And indeed... if such not be

the will of the God of Love
because of this horrifying alienation
which human emotions have undergone
no one will love me at all. 

The worst thing though is that this Tragedy

will not simply end here...

This God of Love

has come highly touted by Olympus...

A good deal more than your usual Idols

and different from them
usurper of all longings
and with many possibilities for immortality. 

And all the departing travelers
will testify that no matter where they went
they saw none of this incredible love anywhere
which in itself would be enough to convince
the easily deceived world
that the Summit had been worth the effort. 

Few people love each other in this World. 

And these few
love each other only as much as they are permitted
by the thought that you can never ascend into the Great Sky
because there... there has truly evolved
                              an anthropic History
but one that's been lived by the Gods alone... 

And for us to stay in the life which endures

more or less but for a single Season
we in any case my dear Apollo
were in no quandary...
            felt no mystery...
because we never expressed any interest
in being Gods. 

The problem is very simple...

We are not wanted
on this Earth... 

Utterly paralyzed and directionless
we have moved about in the world
without being observed by anyone... 

Perhaps we should get organised
we the Great Anonymous mass
to bring this madness with false
Heroes to an end
those who only the Gods with their
own wretchedness know how to erect... 

And as if Troy wasn't enough

to tyrannize Greece
then Olympus went and committed a crime
            of its own as well.

The brain of the World has become stupefied

flinging at their hollow heads
its ferocious desire
            to be God. 

By these Gods

which will control everything from on high
and even more appalling
us who Will and Chance in tandem have
            wanted to keep down here...
despite the fact we roamed the Earth backwards and forwards
to bring about Great Changes in the World
all opinion will defame us
and none of our testimony will ever be heard. 

And that is also why I'm afraid
that we who walked on the Earth alone
will be left completely devoid of history.


As we ended daydreaming
this meant the placement of the sings
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...

An 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
hold 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 lighets of all
had risen high
and our hopes so unavoidably fiery
were extinguished
on the first level...


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.

t 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.



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.


In the frozen wastes of Antarctica
the only thing lacking
was the Sun...
which was found in excess
only in the Sahara Desert.

In the heat and aridity of the Sahara
the only thing lacking was...
an Oasis
which was found in excess
only in the Amazon rain-forests.

Immersed in the Amazon Oasis
the only thing lacking
was the Summit...
which was found in excess
only in the Himalayan Mountains.

Now that I've reached the highest summit
in the Himalayas
I see that you can't dream of
anything higher than this...

On the Summit
the security and serenity
are so soothing and undisturbed
that I could literally
die of Loneliness...

So for that reason..
since I want to live
the only solution is descent..


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. 


During the years he was away from Penelope

Odysseus received quite a number of sexual proposals
from the most beautiful women in Greece.

And as he thanked wholeheartedly

these anonymous Goddesses of Greek temptation
for their silken invitations to passion
Odysseus said that he would respond
as soon as the Universal Community was informed
about the Trojan War.

It had a right to know no matter what

how he went to Troy embodied in the very tempests
not in order to provoke heartache and Catastrophe
but simply to vent the anger of Greece
over its lost honor
saying it had entered the wrong Soul.

The Universal Community however

was informed solely by the Poets
and even then very tardily.

So then Odysseus

the virtuoso mercenary of Glory
ended with the thought
that if he had been truly loved
by the most beautiful women in Greece
he would have emerged from this History
utterly without glory.

From what can be seen

this story would always be defined
by the Poets alone
and these Erotic tales would simply
be called poetic.

The Universal Community

would deem them unbelievable.


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.


The women who King Solomon loved 
the most
were those women
whose soul heed imagined
like the rivers flow.
But immediately after
this ardent desire
old Solomon coolly concluded
that the rivers flow leads them to the sea
and to that boundless blue of the oceans
where all the Temples and Sins
of the Earth are devitalized
and he might thus lose the control he had over Women.

Then King Solomon
in a fit of anger remembered that he was in command
and in the case of danger
he would know how to stop
these maddened rivers.

But this was not the only danger...
Besides the seas and the rivers
the female view of the cosmos also included the sky...

Indeed of late
he had information from his secret agents
that women were exchanging looks with the Stars
their hearts which he had assumed
were near at hand and under complete possession
like the walls of palaces
burned as one with those distant fires.

And thus in that way
King Solomon began to repent
because before he created his Kingdom
he had not thought of incorporating all the Stars
in the celestial territory of the Monarchy
and now at this advanced age
he had to do a detailed study of Astrology.

But old Solomon
had discovered a long time ago all on his own
that Heaven and the Mysteries of the Heaven
were like women
whom he had never loved.

Since the Astrologers of the Future
exploiting the derangement of mortals
entered into negotiations with the Heavens
he from the moment charged them
with enormous spiritual failures
and provocative stupidity
that would have deprived Women
of that Amour which broke down fences
with the force of the enticements
to reach the Promised Land
like a divine oracle
rushing with the conviction of rivers.


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? 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...! 


At that moment when Aphrodite 
conquered the fourth Sky as well
the highest circles of Society
decided that she could now be
proclaimed Illustrious Woman.

That is the great
moment had come for the Advertisement
her body to be stuck to the background
of Omnipotence
or for the passions of Nature to violently
trampled on
if she were
to conquer even the Ninth Heaven.

Or simply to be a contributor
to the Sun's circling from Dawn to Sunset
to be executed not only 
without any intervention of night
but also during the time period
when the Giants of money had a taste for it.

And without yet returning to her Man
Aphrodite observed that
the seas had begun to bury the blue in the earth
and the first dust had begun to fall
on the laurel wreath of victory 
as the island of Cyprus
filled up with reporters and managers
and with the vilest people in the World.

The moment Hephaestus learned of all that
he locked himself in his house
because he too would be losing
his beautiful wife
now she had appeared before 
the eyes of the World...


Of all the dreams on the background of which
calamity and fatalism have reigned
I still am unable to forget that one
with which I began my Tour of the World
at the geographical point where Love was born
and broke off at the point
where humans came to hate one another.

In a completely natural way
I began to hunt down Hate
but after a while this comfort turned into confusion
since I had just read
the Dialectic of Moses
and I had to appease my own spectres
regarding the anxiety which had then gripped Moses
as to the essence of History
which if you judge by the winds
as they caress the windows of Jerusalem
doesn't seem to be tragic at all.

But it seems to me that Moses
as the wind scattered his thoughts through the Desert
may have acted in haste.

The windows of Jerusalem
have looked out on Idols alone.

Those which did not pose any threat to the City
but just as they were not dangerous
they were also uncorrectable
and thus could disturb the conscience of Citizens
regarding the morals of Heroes
which on the heels of the enslavement of human souls
began to spread the cloud of doubt
so in the end not one person was liberated.

And so great was the misunderstanding
of this People that it nearly became a bosom friend of God
until the autumnal nakedness of Mt. Sinai
was decked out in the crusade of this entire People
which went to be punished converting into dust
the Happiness which Fate had ordained for it.

All the wilderness left behind was enough
to confirm what had once
been but a spectre...

As soon as it was delivered from the intoxication
of the divine temperament
the visionaries of the Dialectic
which was baptized by the hot Wind and the Soul
saw that Heaven was nowhere to be found.

Around them could be seen only milling Humans...
not to say Rome...
cold logic.

But that was enough for us to pull away
from you and Earth.

In another world by now
I had absolutely no chance of determining
whether Jerusalem had moved to Hell or
to Paradise
just as Jerusalem had no way of knowing
that with Hate stretching before me
my eye would be drawn to Heaven
just as my body to Earth
and would continue to be beset by visions
to bring before the empty eyes of this World
the unfortunate past of White Idealism.

That is why hope is not to be found
as everything has become terribly blurred
and I'm afraid the most dreadful thing of all will soon rule.

Holy Scripture has begun to stagger about the Earth
refusing to stride in step with the worldly walk
going back to the time the Steps of this World
first became imperial
and night was getting ready to fall on that World
so that all of these games of absolutely no seriousness
all of these doubts and conjectures
would be arranged like Black Legends
on the banks of the Jordan river.

Thus the following day
only one thing would come true
from the Dream I saw.

Its flow cannot be contained
in mere undulation without mysteries
signs and shadows of the life beyond.

And that has dispassionate aims...specific...
so the only thing that can be faced in this World
will be the Punished People
which as I meant to tell you above
will pervade History
having before it the Desert
there in its eternal place
seeking explanations for the return of Idealism
from the Jordan river...
and if I'm not mistaken
not even that one has the right to return
quite the same as all other beings
who do not belong to any God.


Since the urge came over me
I would like to show a film.

I will take the part of the world
and have the world
play the part of me.

But until the world
learns to play the role of Don Quixote
I will have at my disposal sufficient time...
for practically a second human History
during which...
the involvement with Glory will surpass
the seriousness of the extension of empires.
And all that of course without the horses
and consequently...
without the exasperation
that the largest part of Glory
the World would come to appreciate on horseback.

The World has taken them
so they can play the role of Don Quixote together
and I see them in the enclosed mountains of La Mancha
the poor horses being beaten
who having the experience
of Don Quixote riding on their backs
provided a sufficient reason
for the naive souls of the Middle Ages to hope
that finally they had found the reason and the technique
of the Ancient Legends
for making their way to Troy.

And subsequently
I cannot fall quite so low
as to play the role of the World.

It`s just I`m in a rush with this opportunity I've been given
by this position far
from the preparations for the tempests of that period
whereby I might be a true Don Quixote
who levels a heavy charge
against the Spanish Monarchy
for its impersonal compact with all the World
influenced by Fantasy
immediately after the notification
of my own plans
for the creation of a second Human History.

But that one like all the others
proved to be a phantom
which the Spanish might have shared with the World
if only their souls
would have been weighted down by the Line

''...Τhose hopeless returns to La Mancha.''
But they have never returned
because no one is waiting for them
and the greatest scandal is that
no one ever had the hope
there might be somewhere to go
from Spain and the World.

And this seems so bitter and tragic to me
that my reason consumed by so many tasks
will now occupy itself
with the crude similarity between the Eras...
because they blame me for any chance ambiguity
in the philosophical essence of History
and that this has occurred because I
have made off with the authenticity of the Eras.

Well for your information
the exact opposite is what actually happened.
The Eras themselves were like lighted candles
at the terminus of murky imperial Fate
during that time when along with the last recollections
they were deprived of reason
and they waited on a wind to keep them in life.

Just as it should have, it happened
and the Winds came to abandon that world
but I who was a bit more than merely a World
never took care to be a Wind.

I merely found myself opposite them like a storm
threatening the Idols
of their egocentric feelings
which fled with the cynical dexterity of Abel
from the debased terrain of the Earth
the moment when Humankind
entered without even itself knowing it
the dogmatic Paintings of the White Saints.

I have never been face to face
with all those strange figures
which provoke such displeasure in me
but if I should come face to face
I have the despairing impression
that holding out the Cross to thwart an assault
by the supposedly Satanic Don Quixote
in order not to defy the sentiments of the World
that I so loved...
that they will then force me to decisively withdraw
which would always be the end of tragedy
in agreement with the naive World.

While I would say
despite the fact I am certain that
that no one will hear me
that this is the Beginning of Tragedy.

Later comes the colonization of the Divine Dialectic
which will choke the sensibility of the Earth in corruption
for those people who continue to be mortal
and despite the fact I gave La Mancha the right
to govern things in the Abyss
in what concerns this despair
of...non resurrection.
But this pitiless tragicalness
will not prevent this deluded world
from constantly praising the Saints.

And indeed I could say that
despite the fact this Quixotian madness
remains the only manifesto
concerning human insurrections
the fact that this manifesto has been discredited
makes me say that
it is the Era of Saints.

And now immersed in this full Mediterranean moon
where from all points something
is blowing which reminds me that although
I have fallen into the grip of deep age
reckoning on the writing of my memories
I feel like crying without even wanting myself
to surrender to Christian Charity
and I will not be able to be prodigal
in the use of Sarcasm
so I can let it be understood
that my work will be excoriated
especially when it is judged
by the naive people of Spain and the World.


Of all the artistic failures
that have nothing to do
with either law’s...
or the Muses...
pay attention to the main one...

Protect your heads
from Greece’s moan that was enclosed
inside your masks.

The role you undertook to play
does not strike anyone.

It itself is struck powerfully
by the irresistible aspiration of the Dialectic
to overwhelm the Human Being
with second opinions
in a second head
in order to interpret in keeping with its preferences
all that will take place in the space of the World.

Independently of what went on in your brains
which were subservient
just like the territory of the Empires
the protest of the soul
was not heard by anyone
because logic...
had been completely excluded.

It had been completely excluded...
and here its Greece’s fault as it ceded
to Dionysos...
extents of Earth and soul...
for his light-hearted and silly games
and the Heavenly places which had never been touched
by the hands of tragedy
were invited onto the stage
to play sub-songs for amusement.

On the stairs...
you’d think the conscience of the World was territorial
applause broke out
and the Nightmares who even the night considered too dangerous
to be included in its darkness
confirmed that they had earned the right
to walk unmolested with Happiness
in the flow of Days.

If at times you erred
and shifted the hero from mask to brain
because of this collective authenticity
you will sustain heavy artistic blows.

Ah, here yes...
you found Olympus on its own Time!

Precisely when they lighted a few
superstitious fires on it
and who knows what other long road
it will burden Greece with again!

And on the return... the tired field-marshals
when they find themselves at the Mercy of Seas
and no hand will be stretched out to them
from Olympus to pull them back to solid Earth
and they will curse the Tragedy as inhuman and evil.

Spontaneously then...
plunge to the lower feelings of Earth
which warned you that 
soon they will be looking straight into Nightmares eyes.

Or so that we may be more like Humanists about the World
a kind of incomparable Fog
that will block visions this way and that
like a black sheet
for the mourning for Persephone.

That is why it’s also feared this make-believe Humanist
will take us by the throat
and dressed in white
will go into Athens
in order to hide the evil Hour
which roams the World like a paralytic
to acquire the right to be History.

That is why actors if you desire
that your temporary presence on Earth
is not the cause of misunderstanding
regarding Humanity’s being dressed
in the white garments of Humanism
it would be better if you had the conviction this World
has a skinny body... and its lines not suited
to that outfit
so that when the Future reveals
the failure of Philosophy
and the vanity of all things
perhaps the conscience of the World will also be upset
by the mistake that was shown to be so small
and enveloped its spacious heart
leaving Tragedy out.

And indeed now when Greek Horizons are clear
it is suspected that from the East
this same darkness and same cyclone
will rush in with mania slyly slipping past
the Symplegades
and will demolish the Visions of the World
with the eternal and heretical slogan:
Beware Bad Art and Athens ...


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.


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 anyoneÕs fate.

Despite all that setting off now
for my one and only fortune
I see thousands of daydreamers quarrelling
about the matter of the bequest. dear visionaries
is non-existent in the wealth of this property
but in that 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. 


Tomorrow night there’ll be a performance
and in the morning
I’d like to drop in on rehearsals.

Since night is no time to get involved
with the fanfares of glory
I’ll slip out for a while into the world of the Defeated.

Their God died sometime ago.

Only their Fate continues to be vital
and thus isolated as they very far from the Earth
they are drowning in the sorrow that they have no right at all
to see that their past which the chroniclers
were in such a hurry to embody in memories
has now returned so acrimonious and venomous
and being mounted with such spectacular and terrible expertise
so its case may be pleaded
in the Theatre of the World.

That is also why I came down here
to confront with them
the new approaching state of History
which if I were to compare it to a frenzied river
the Monarchs are those who without the slightest
doubt have harrowed to the point of collapse
this schizophrenic tragedy.

The Monarchs know this all too well
and indeed one of them who is still alive
with his spectres secreted beneath his white uniform
will play his part in the performance
which is in conformity with all artistic contingencies
and will topple so many idols
even demolish the Astronomical view of the Universe.

You were right to bring Heaven back
to the World’s stage...
because it had become utterly revolting and gross...

Moreover Heaven had distanced itself
from my heart as well...
and indeed because of this distancing
it seems to me it is I who have made the mistake.

The moment I found myself caught up in the resolve
of the Defeated
to once more appear on the solid ground of History
I should have suggested that the director of the performance
incorporate into the work a scene
which dealt with the Ethos and Breeding transmitted
by the patrons and boot-lickers of the Palace.

Because by the time the Sovereign is able to feel
once more King
the Defeated will have slipped out of my control
and on one of the unsullied areas of the Planet
Hell acting along with Paradise will wage
within a single hour a life and death war
so that just a few moments before the sun rises
the procedure
for the conquest of the Throne
will have come to an end.

The Victor will make it understood
to those there
that it is not mere chance
that he is the one assuming the Throne
at precisely the moment
when the Sun is coming into the World.

Whatever happens
his authority though it sink at evening
will be returned again by nature at dawn.

After this intrepid rationalization
regarding the things of the World
thousands of proposals will be made to me
for press interviews
literary appearances
and other such contemporary trivialities...

But I would not want to look at
the Sun of this foul authority
and in full flood of mourning
I would pull back into the dark
in order to foresee
the coming tragedies of this world.


As I did my tour of the World
there was this island on the other side of the Caribbean current
that when it saw all the travelers
without any gift
for great discoveries
it did not suffer any geographical reformation
but in a completely schematic sense
reminded me of Ithaca...

The Island was far enough away
to make me doubt for yet one more time
Penelope’s devotion...
that she may have once more dishonored Greece
philandering with those defeated at Troy
and amplifying their Fantasy
that they were vanquishing her body...
what I’m saying is the Greek army would have failed
in demeaning her Happiness
which might have brought down the Soul of Greece.

(And just so you know...
If something like that should
happen...then the Eternal Man
that Philosophy dreamed of in Athens
can be forgotten once and for all...)

Despite all that at such moments
it is not worth wasting Divine Breath
on such insignificant things
because that was the period on Olympus
where a disillusionment without precedent was perpetuated
regarding the failure of Universal Reason
when Women were found in its Essence.

And now when I see the Palms on the Island swaying
I remember the Islands of Greece
and when we set out for Troy
how simple-minded we were not understanding
that punishing mercilessly those desires
which endowed the youth of Troy with such brilliance
with those narrow visions and parochialism's of ours
we came up with a good recipe
for heartache and Universal Catastrophe.

And asking forgiveness for that Fire
I see behind the backs of the Caribbean
with a turbulent present of frightened people...
and whether it comes into the World or not
all the currents of Human Thought will be drowned
in dispute...
and finally when they want to leave
a dignified inscription
on the tombs of the drowned
the autonomy of Continent will be defamed.

I in particular would be repudiated
I would become anathema for all lives
and the fact that immediately after the destruction of Troy
I was sent by the Greeks
in quest of New and Virgin lands...
then when the World had a growing suspicion
that the only work that went well
with this People
was plundering.

Much later other travelers would come
loaded down with Ghosts
and Mythological notebooks...
in which would be written that there never had been
a brilliant period of superstition
and as soon as they set foot on the Island
the minute these Wise Elders
attacked Continent ...
they would confirm that their thoughts had come to an end
having squandered them on overcoming currents.

would be taken aback by this misfortune
and would go against the Thinkers
and indeed quite often... would beseech God
to lay waste to the islands.

Someone in any case would lose
and while I have a presentiment even now
about this terrible defeat
I would like to issue a warning
to Apollo...
that the Ancient Mythologies
will no longer have a role to play.

So because of that...
when we met on the Island
and saw that as soon as the masts
on the ship fell...
the masts of the Ghosts were raised
we then observed a moment of silence
commemorating the drowning of Aristotle in the currents
of the Euripus
which had not yet occurred.


If we two
loved each other for one whole day
the next morning
we would awaken with the thought
that employing the same dynamism
we would be able to love all year round.

Since we two
would love the whole year round
like a clear horizon would hover
before us the idea
that in contrast to the paleness
of the light of eyes
our love would be always brighter and brighter
for the entire century.

And if we two
could manage such a miracle
light and guileless as all speeds are
we would race along in the thought
that we might well love
for all the Centuries.

This final thought,however,
would be quite burdensome..
and severely punished
the Gods of Olympus with supreme charge
'' For giving humanity the secret
of Happiness''
and under the weight of her blind
may die.

Translation by


  1. I have a question, why do call your poems "cosmopoems"? For you, what is the meaning of Cosmopoetry?

  2. ELI RIZO- USA -

    Dear Mr. Foukis,
    I'm not a poet or critic but I love poetry! We, the epirotes, should be proud
    of you. Your're amazing!...I want to tell you that not only by instinct when I start reading, holding my breath because I felt also the musicality, beauty, dynamism, strength, style...I'm just grateful to be your friend in FB. You're writing a history in
    world's poetry to my opinion. Again, I have a voice and love to sing but reading your poems I felt so invisible and the truth is that I got also e
    Sincerely along with my best wishes...!!!