DON KISHOTI Poem in albanian 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.

         DON KISHOTI

                  
                                 Meqë ashtu mu shkrep
                                 do të desha të luaj një film.

                                 Unë do të marr rolin e Botës
                                 dhe Botës do ti jap të luaj rolin tim.


                                 Po derisa Bota të mësoj 
                                 të luaj rolin e Don Kishotit
                                 mua më mbetet në dispozicion mjaft kohë....
                                 Gati një histori e dytë njerëzore
                                 gjatë së cilës
                                 zelli im për Lavdinë do ta kapërcej
                                 seriozitetin e zgjerimit të perandorive.

                        
                                 Të gjitha këto pa kuajt..
                                 dhe rrjedhimisht pa qederin 
                                 se pjesën më Tribune të Lavdisë
                                 kjo botë ziliqare
                                 mund tua japë kuajve.


                                 Ajo tashmë i ka marrë ata
                                 për të luajtur së bashku rolin e Don Kishotit
                                 dhe i shoh mes maleve të mbyllura të Mançës
                                 tek rreh kuajt e gjorë..
                                 të cilët duke patsur një përvojë
                                 për mbartjen e Don Kishotit mbi shpinë
                                 ishin një shkak i mirë 
                                 që të shpresonin naivët e Mesjetës
                                 se më në fund gjetën logjikën dhe teknikat e Lashta
                                 të shkuarjes për në Trojë.


                                  Dhe rrjedhimisht...
                                  unë nuk mund të ulem kaq poshtë
                                  sa të luaj rolin e botës.

                                  Vetëm nxitohem nga mundësia që më jep
                                  qëndrimi larg përgatitjes së stuhive të Kohës
                                         për të qenë një Don Kishot i vërtetë     
                                   që akuzon rëndë Monarkinë e Spanjës
                                   për marrveshjen e saj të fshehtë me Botën
                                   mbas zbulimit të planeve të mia
                                   për krijimin e një Historie të Dytë njerëzore.


                                    Por ai..si gjithë të tjerët 
                                    ishte thjesht një Vegim
                                    që mund ta kishin dhe Spanja me Botën..
                                    Por vetëm me një kusht..
                                    Në qoftë se mbi shprtin e tyre do të rëndonte verbi
                                    - Kthimet e dëshpëruara në Mançë.


                                      Por ata nuk janë kthyer kurrë..
                                      sepse nuk i priste askush.
                                      Dhe më tragjikja..
                                      Prej Spanjës dhe Botës askush nuk priste
                                      se mund të shkonin diku.


                                      Dhe kaq e hidhur më duket kjo
                                      saqë logjika ime e zënë me gjithfarë punësh
                                      do të merret tani
                                      me ngjashmërinë banale të Epokave...
                                      meqë më akuzuan se 
                                      në qoftë se ka një paqartësi 
                                      në thelbin filozofik të Historisë
                                      kjo ka ndodhur sepse unë
                                      paskam vjedhur origjinalitetin e Kohrave.


                                      Merreni vesh mirë pra,
                                      se pikërisht e kundërta ka ndodhur.


                                       Vetë Epokat të ndezura si qirinj..
                                       përfund fatit të zymtë Perandorak
                                       në kohën kur u dilte shpirti dalngadalë
                                       luteshin ti mbante në jetë një fllad.
                                

                                        Ashtu siç duhej të ndodhte,
                                        flladet e kishin braktisur këtë Botë
                                        por edhe unë që isha diçka më shumë se Botë..
                                        kurrë nuk mësova të jem fllad..

                                        Vetë u gjenda përballë tyre si stuhi..
                                        kërcënuese per Idhujt e ndjenjave të tyre
                                                                                arrogante
                                        që me elegancën cinike të Abelit
                                        largoheshin nga tokat e mjera të botës
                                        pikërisht kur Njerëzimi po mbyllej 
                                        brenda Tablove dogmatike të Shënjtorve.

                                        Kurrë nuk jam përballur 
                                        me ato portrete të çuditshme...
                                        por edhe sikur të përballesha
                                        kam përshtypjen e dëshpëruar se 
                                        duke nxjerrë Kryqin përballë sulmit 
                                        të gjoja Satanait Don Kishot, 
                                        për të mos skandalizuar nderin e Botës
                                        do të më detyronin të tërhiqesha..

                                        Çka do të ishte për botën naive
                                        edhe fundi i tragjedisë.

                                        Ndërsa unë..
                                        ndonëse jam i sigurt se nuk më dëgjon askush
                                        do të thosha se është fillimi i Tragjedisë.

                                        Mbas kësaj vjen popullimi i Dialektikës Hyjnore...
                                        që do të korruptojë ndjeshmërinë e botës..
                                        për njerzit që do të vazhdojnë të jenë të vdekshëm..
                                        (dhe megjithë se Mança qeveris punët e Hadesit)
                                        dhe për këtë shpirt..
                                        të paringjallshëm.

                              
                                         Por kjo tragjedi e pamëshirshme
                                         nuk do ta trondisë këtë botë naive
                                         që do ti ngrejë në altare shenjtorët.


                                         Madje pa frikë mund të them
                                         se megjithëse marrëzia donkishoteske
                                         mbetet i vetmi manifest i shpërthimeve njerëzore, 
                                         jetojmë megjithëatë në Epokën e Shënjtorve.

                                         

                                          Dhe tani i zhytur në këtë muzg mesdhetar
                                          ku fryn nga çdo anë..
                                          çka më siguron se kam rënë në pleqërinë e thellë
                                          duke menduar shkrimin e Kujtimeve
                                          më vjen për të qarë 
                                          që padashur edhe vetë..
                                          do ti dorëzohem Mëshirës Kristiane
                                          dhe nuk do të mund të jem dorëlëshuar 
                                          në përdorimin e Ironisë dhe Sarkazmës
                                          për të lënë të kuptohet 
                                          se Vepra ime do të përbaltet 
                                          sidomos kur do të vlerësohet 
                                          nga injoranca e Spanjës dhe e Botës.
                                               
                

ODYSSEUS Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS

ODYSSEUS


 

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
Continent
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.


Continent
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....

THE TRAGIC THEATRE 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 TRAGIC THEATER


Of all the artistic failures
that have nothing to do
with either laws...
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 it`s 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.''

PAVDEKESIA 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.

PAVDEKESIA

 
Ne qofte se ne te dy
do te duheshim gjate gjithe dites
mengjesin tjeter....
ndonese ne gjume n'a u shpifen endrra
per forcen kolosale te se keqes...
me te njejtin dinamizem
do te mund te duheshim gjate gjithe vitit...
 
Ne qofte se ne te dy
do te duheshim gjate gjithe vitit..
megjithese hapesira
kuterbon nga mediokritetet e botes...
si nje horizont i paster
do te shpalosej perpara nesh mendimi
se ne kundershtim me zbehjen e drites se syve
do te duheshim gjithnje e me ndritshem
gjate gjithe shekullit..
 
Dhe ne qofte se ne te dy
do te realizonim nje mrekulli te tille
duke u dashur
gjate gjithe shekullit
mendjelehte dhe naive
si parardhesit tane perballe gjerave te ndaluara
do te vraponim tek mendimi
se fare mire mund te duheshim
gjate gjithe shekujve...

Por ky mendimi i fundit... do te ishte shume i rende
i nje peshe Universale..
dhe rreptesisht i denueshem
nga perendite e Olimpit
me akuzen..
'' Per dhenien e sekretit te Lumturise Njerezimit..''
dhe nen peshen e saj te verbert
mund te vdisnim....


Perktheu nga greqishtja  SPIRO  FUQI

ΝΕΟΣ ΜΟΝΑΧΙΚΟΣ ΕΛΛΗΝΑΣ Ηλιας Φουκης

 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.

ΝΕΟΣ ΜΟΝΑΧΙΚΟΣ ΕΛΛΗΝΑΣ
 

`Αν θελήσει
η Βούληση του Θεού της Γης
χωρίς να χρειαστεί να πλέκω το εγκώμιο του Δία
σήμερα εγώ....
θα περπατάω όλη μέρα στη Γη...
και το σημαντικότερο,
μόλις θα αντικρίζω την απόσταση ασφαλείας
που έχω από το θάνατο...
Δόξα τον Απόλλωνα
δεν θα με ενοχλήσει
το δαιμόνιο της Αυτοκαταστροφής.

 

 Αν δεν θελήσει
η Βούληση του Θεού των Ουρανών
στα όνειρά μου..
που μου πολιορκούν την ουσία της `Ύπαρξης
όπως τον Σίσυφο
ο εφιάλτης της άκαρπης εργασίας
δεν θα χαρίζεται ούτε ένα μέτρο ουρανός...
και ξέρετε που θα καταλήξουν
τα `Όνειρά για έναν καλύτερο Κόσμο και την Ωραία Ελλάς...!
Απαρατήρητα και σιγά - σιγά
θα τα τρώει η σκουριά
και οι σκόνες της λησμονιάς...

 

Αν θελήσει
η Βούληση του Θεού της Θάλασσας
τα δικά μου Φαντάσματα που είναι οπλισμένα
με βάρος στη συνείδηση και με συγνώμη,
θα έχουν την σπάνια ευκαιρία
να ξεπλύνουν της ζωντανές αμαρτίες της Τροίας
που έχουν γίνει ο πιο επικίνδυνος `Όλυμπος
με την κυνική τους προσδοκία
να είναι η Αιώνια Ελλάδα ενώπιον του Κόσμου.

 

Αν δεν θελήσει
η Βούληση του Θεού της Φωτιάς ,
εμένα που ξέρω καλύτερα το μοιραίο δεσμό
της Ελλάδας με τις Πυρκαγιές
θα μου χαθεί και η τελευταία ευκαιρία
να δείξω ελεημοσύνη
και οι Πόλεις θα συνεχίσουν
να καίγονται ήσυχα...

 

Και μάλιστα...αν δεν θελήσει
η Βούληση του Θεού της Αγάπης
εξαιτίας αυτής της τρομακτικής αναμόρφωσης
που έχουν υποστεί τα ανθρώπινα συναισθήματα
εμένα δεν θα με αγαπάει κανείς.

Το χειρότερο όμως είναι πως αυτή η Τραγωδία
δεν θα σταματήσει εδώ...

 

Αυτός ο Θεός της Αγάπης
έχει διαφημιστεί πολύ από τον `Όλυμπο...
Κάτι περισσότερο από τα συνηθισμένα Είδωλα
και διαφορετικά απ΄ αυτούς
άρπαγας όλων των πόθων
και με πολλές πιθανότητες αιωνιότητας.

 

'Όλοι οι φευγάτοι ταξιδιώτες
θα τις μαρτυράνε ότι όπου και αν πήγαν
δεν είδαν πουθενά καμία φανταστική αγάπη
που θα αρκούσε να πείσει
τον εύκολα εξ απατημένο κόσμο
ότι 'αξιζε την Κορυφή...

Λίγοι άνθρωποι αγαπιόταν στον Κόσμο.

 

Και αυτοί αγαπιόταν όσο τους επέτρεπε η σκέψη
ότι στο Μεγάλο Ουρανό δεν μπορείς να ανέβεις ποτέ
διότι εκεί ... πράγματι έχει εξελιχθεί
μία ανθρώπινη Ιστορία
αλλά όπως την έζησαν μονάχα οι Θεοί....

 

Και για να μείνουμε στη ζωή η οποία διαρκεί
λίγο ή πολύ όσο μια Εποχή
εμείς ούτως ή άλλος αγαπητέ μας Απόλλωνα
δεν είχαμε κανένα δίλημμα...
κανένα μυστήριο...
διότι δεν εκδηλώσαμε κανένα ενδιαφέρον
για να είμαστε Θεοί..

 

Το πρόβλημα ήταν πολύ απλό...
Εμείς ήμασταν ανεπιθύμητοι σε αυτή την Γη...
Εντελώς παράλυτη και χωρίς καμία ευθεία
έχουμε κυκλοφορήσει στον κόσμο
χωρίς να μας παρατηρήσει κανείς...

 

'Ισως θα πρέπει να οργανωθούμε
εμείς οι Μεγάλοι Ανώνυμοι
για να τερματίσουμε αυτή την τρέλα
με ψεύτικους ΄Ηρωες
από αυτούς που με την δική τους αθλιότητα
ξέρουν να στήσουν μόνο οι Θεοί...

 

Αυτή οι Θεοί
που θα ελέγξουν τα πάντα από ψηλά
και το πιο τρομερό
εμάς που θελήσει και Τύχη μαζί
μας ήθελαν να είμαστε κάτω....
παρόλο που τριγυρίσαμε την Γη μπρος και ανάποδα
για της μεγάλες αλλαγές στον Κόσμο..
θα μας συκοφαντούνται όλες οι γνώμες
δεν θα μας ακούγεται καμία μαρτυρία ....

 

Για αυτό και φοβάμαι
ότι εμείς που περπατάμε μόνο στη Γη
θα μείνουμε χωρίς Ιστορία...

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