PROMETHEUS OF THE WINDS Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS

PROMETHEUS OF THE WINDS 

Welcome again, oh, Winds

To our sleepy world..

But where were you, oh, Winds?..

You've disappeared for so much time!! 

And we've lost the aura and the impetus 

of the centuries..

At last..

A Prometheus that we had hidden

in the cellars of Dreams

rose our thoughts

with his cries to Olympus..

And we have risen our masts..

With your help now

we'll end 

our tragic idleness..

Break out Tramontana!*...

Hit us with the great urges of the North..

As much as a harsh, mythical man can do..

It doesn't matter if we'll hurt..

It's important to understand 

that history hasn't ended.. 

And that something is moving 

in this world...

Nevertheless...

Do whatever you think with your power

Tramontana..

All the rot and evil that you'll find 

in front of you..

Throw it away so it can be buried in the eternal sea...

Blow Gregale!*...

Blow as persistently and decidedly 

as you can..

You know the way..

Take us back..

As back as you can..

There, where man once understood 

that besides the body, he has a Soul too, 

that had to fit all in the poems of Homer,

where surely you have whispered these poems too..

Here and now merciful Gregale!*...

We have to learn the alphabet of Salvation

from the creator of Beauty..

And the master builder of Virtue..

Caress us Southern One!*...

Flood us with the rare, divine warmth 

of yours..

Please..

Do something for our pretty soul..

Because as we are speaking..

In this world..

Neither Lords

Nor Tyrants

Neither Orators

If you've understood..

Noone loves us..

And as it seems..

We're unnecessary people and nothing...

Take us in your enormous embrace..

There, where you held Aphrodite 

and Maria Nefeli..

So that we can ignore 

that we were once born on this Earth 

and that one day we shall die..

 But let death await...

Levante!*...

A stoical sea-storm of the centuries...

What did you think

When you saw face to face 

Achilles and Great Alexander!!!..

Wise and most respectful as you are

You knew that they had to be defeated

The Persians and Barbarism

And as you bowed before the saying..

"No harm did the Greeks do to the World"..

You gave them the credentials of immortality.. 

And you opened the road to them.. 

The one they had taken 

for the mausoleums of History...

Levante!*...

You never got tired

to spread to the world

the voices and oracles

of the Gods..

Do it again as it suits

an imperious Bard..

Here and now

We need the care of the Powers 

of Wholeness and Everything..

I'm speaking to you Levante..

Wise Wind of the Nations...

Ponente!*...

Blow, you too, Ponente,

Silently like the escape of the day..

Like the enormous prudence 

and wisdom of the sea..

Give me a little from your very blessed air..

From him where one saturday night

An hour like this..

He caressed Helen..

In the horizons of eternity...

Because it wasn't a night

Nor was it a simple love-affair..

It was a whole history..

It was Sparta that held the pen..

And the white paper was Troy...

And exactly as the Greeks understood

We understood too..

How the time had come 

To rise the masts and start..

Like the Kings

that wanted to take their girlfriends back..

We wanted to take back the world 

that we had lost...

Tramontana..

 Gregale..

  Southern One..

   Ponente..

    Levante...

Five parents in the star of the Sky..

You must do something for us...

There, where you'll gather,

Somewhere aside of the Moon

Near the planet Aphrodite..

In your gathering..

I would like to come as a messenger

For the evil that has found us...

Someone had the atrocious idea

From free people

To make us hermits...

In this full Moon

We can't see you..

Because at the window..

Barbarism is waiting to attack us...

Winds...

Like seekers and supplicants

We await a decision

From the Super Utmost Powers

At last to open the door to us...

In a while..

The Night is coming..

And the tragic soul of Humankind

will feel pain

from the Dynasty of Darkness...

Tramontana*= North Wind

Gregale*= North East or East Wind

Southern One*= South Wind

Levante*= East Wind

Ponente*= Western Wind

Translated from greek 

into english 

by Vasiliki Kalahani

THE FRUIT BEARING TREE. Poem by ILIAS FOUKIS

 THE FRUIT  BEARING  TREE  

The point here that l've reached

And exactly as l am..

With plenty of fruits, handsome and slender-made..

I know what lies ahead of me from you

And what is expected..

After being born and swept away 

and scanned by the divine open- wind..

The Princess Spring did me so..

And the ingenious, resourceful Summer..

I am ashamed of my riches and beauty

I am afraid and l shiver to the thought

That invasions of rabid and barren people                                                  will come

and infertility..

When this unfortunate world 

sees the view of True Loveliness

and the aura of Fertility...

You will stone me with rocks underneath

Persistently..as you only know..

Until you take what you want

With hatred and merciless savageness...

And l will fall to your knees 

and into your hands..

-"Oh, how tasty he is and what a mature fruit he is..

God looks over us

the poor people"..

Oh, you'll laugh...

And my Soul will become

An ancient greek city

That Barbariousness looted..

I am here, sent by God,

To be offered as a trophy

For our own cruelty..

You can climb up my body

There where you have never seen..

High..with impetus..

Towards the chosen things of the Sky 

l mean..

God shouldn't have done it

But still he did..

God knew something when he said:

"In this world

The good entity and the bad will live..

At the end of righteousness

The crooked things will start..

And at the bottom of Chosen Beings

Stupid mongs will give sprouts"..

And as you will be content

By the Good Juices and the Chosen Blood

You'll become Lords and Tyrants

And great glories you will experience...

While l..

As to give birth to these precious fruits..

I shed a million tears and experienced 

such dreadful pain..

You will give me away to oblivion

Leaving me to beg for a little mercy

From the very frosty winter

Without even casting upon me

A suit jacket for my shoulders...

And many other things you can do..

And many other atrocities you will perform..

Whereas you can't give birth to fruits

And beauty for the sake of the people..

You can only lay the road 

that was made

for the dreams of the world 

with thorns..

And as for your own infertility..

Always a price will be given

So the fruit bearing trees

Shall pay you..

Anyway

the purpose of poverty

sanctifies all means..

And now hurt by all the strikes of your hunger..                                                    

Hurt by ingratitude

that l took from this world..

I want to shout..if l have a voice..

-"Mother Earth

You were unjust..

Why did you cause me 

So much suffering and confusion

And you made me so Handsome!!!..

You should have thought better

Before you gave birth to me

As a fruit bearing tree...

Translated from greek 

into english by

Vasiliki Kolliopoulou Kalahani

ΚΑΡΠΟΦΌΡΟ ΔΕΝΤΡΟ. Ηλίας Φούκης

 

ΚΑΡΠΟΦΌΡΟ ΔΕΝΤΡΟ 

Εδώ που έφτασα και έτσι όπως είμαι,
Ευκαρπος , όμορφος , και καλόκαμωμένος,
Ξέρω τί μέ περιμένει από  εσάς,
Αφού με γέννησαν και με σαρωααν
με θεϊκό αγέρι,
η Πριγκίπισσα Άνοιξη και
το πολυμήχανο Καλοκαίρι.

Ντρέπομαι για τα  πλούτη και την ομορφιά μου,
φοβάμαι και τρέμω στην ιδέα
Ότι θά αρχίσουν επιδρομές λυσσασμένον,
άγονον ανθρώπων
και στειρότητας,
Μόλις αυτός ο δύσμοιρος κόσμος ,
αντικρίσει τη Θέα του Καλλούς
Και την αύρα της Γονιμότητας.

Θα μέ χτυπήσετε με πέτρες από κάτω ,
Επίμονα .. ωπος μόνον εσείς ξέρετε
ώσπου να πάρετε αυτό πού θέλετε ,
Με μίσος και με ανελέητη αγριότητα,
Και εγώ θα πέσω στα πόδια σάς
και  στα χέρια σας,

"- Τί νόστιμος είναι και πόσο μεστό φρούτο ,
Ο Θεός μεριμνά και για μάς
τούς φτωχούς "
θα γελάσετε ,

Και η Ψυχή μου θά γίνει
Μία αρχαία ελληνική πόλη
Που την λεηλάτησε η Βαρβαρότητα.

Εγώ είμαι εδώ θεοσταλτος
Να  προσφέρομε ώς τρόπαιο
Γία την δική σας βαναυσότητα.
Μπορείτε να ανεβείτε στο κορμί μου
Εκεί πού ποτέ δεν έχετε μάτα δει..
Ψηλά... ορμητικά..
προς τα εκλεκτά των ουρανών δηλαδή.

Δέν επρεπε
ο Θεός να το κάνει αυτό..
Και όμως το έκανε..

Κάτι ήξερε ο Θεός όταν έλεγε..
"Στον κόσμο αυτο
Θα ζήσουν και το Καλό και το Κακό,
Στο τέρμα του Ορθού
                  αρχίζει το Στραβό,
Στο πάτο του Εκλεκτού
                   θά φυτρώσει το ζαβο...."

Και καθώς θά  εχετε χορτάσει ,
Απο Καλούς Χυμούς και Εκλεκτό  Αίμα,
Θα γίνεστε Άρχοντες, και Δυνάστες
και Μεγάλες Δόξες θα ζήσετε,
Ενώ εμένα
που για να γεννήσω αυτούς τούς καρπούς
Έριξα δάκρια και έζησα φρικτούς πόνους
Θα με παραδώσετε στην λησμονιά
Αφήνοντας με να εκλιπαρο
Λίγο ελαίος από τον ψυχρό χειμώνα
Χωρίς να μου ρίξετε
Έστω ένα σακάκι στους ώμους,

Και αλλά πολλά μπορείτε να κάνετε,
Και άλλες πολλές αθλιότητες.

Μία και δεν μπορείτε
να γεννησετε καρπούς
και κάλλος για τούς ανθρώπους, 

Μπορείτε μόνον 
να στρωσετε με αγκάθια
Το δρόμο που φτιάχτηκε
           για τα όνειρα του κόσμου.

Από την δική σας στειρότητα, 
Όλο και κάποιο τίμημα θά βρεθεί,
Γία να πληρώσουν
          τα καρποφόρα δέντρα.

Άλλωστε, 
ο σκοπός της φτώχιας,
Αγιάζει όλα τα μέσα. 

Και τώρα πληγωμένος από της βολές της πείνας σας ,
πονεμένος από την αχαριστία
πού πήρα από αυτόν τον κόσμο,
Θέλω να φωνάξω ,  άν έχω φωνή ,

- Μάνα Γη...
Γιατί με πήρες στο λαιμό
Κάνοντας με τόσο Όμορφο.!!!!!
Έπρεπε καλά να σκεφτείς,
Πρώτου με γεννήσεις
               καρποφόρο δέντρο.....

Copyright Ilias Foukis @.