Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Techno-logical




Techno-logical

The spindle of the miracle
and the labor which gathers nightly tears
enfold time onto visual reflections of a reel.
But the action is suspended
by an instant hand..
A button in the space of present
is enough to release the incalculable energy
of each soul.
Voices on a screen.
Your words I hold and you see mine.
All these were incoherent till now.
Now that your resolution made them links at last.
With the incorruptible first in use phrase.



Τεχνο-λογικη

Το αδραχτι του θαύματος 
κι ο καματος που μαζεύει νυχτερινά δάκρυα 
τυλιγουνε χρόνο σε ολογραμματα ανεμης.
Μα απ' της στιγμής το χέρι 
κρέμεται η πραξη.
Ένα κουμπί στο χωρόχρονο του παρόντος
αρκει για να εκλύσει την ανυπολογιστη ενέργεια 
του κάθε ατόμου.
Φθόγγοι σε μια οθόνη.
Τα λόγια σου κρατώ και βλέπεις τα δικά μου.
Ολα αυτά ηταν ασύνδετα ως τωρα.
Τωρα που η τολμη σου επιτέλους τα έκανε κρίκους.
Με το αδιαβρωτο της πρωτης σε χρήση φρασης.



Z.K.


(written in 1998)


Wandering


(Rene Magritte, La Corde Sinsible)


Wandering

I’ve been passing by marks of ropes
Counting ant-hills in my sleep
I’ve decomposed a certain beauty
And I’ve built a corridor on its remnants.

It adorned me once
With a constant repetition of feelings
I’ve carried on whistleblowing madly
To an indelible bulk
Water
Just a drop of sea
In the rivers I’ve surfeited
In their springs I’ve been bred
I don’t remember any fairies
Trouts I’ve accompanied
But I haven’t been with the seamen in their
Voyages

I’ve been offering water at various tables
The mute wine I’ve given away
I’ve rambled through the children’s laughter
In their mothers’ prayers I’m going to sleep

Can I pass Lady Mary or cannot I?
If I manage it I will flee
Get shackled my soul to any rock you want
And again break free and carry away
Whoever you can



Z.K.

(written in 1991)


Crossroads


 (Rene Magritte, La Reconaisance Infinie)


Crossroads

You thrust your easily drawn conclusion
And you cast it upon me
Fresh and hot
It's easy for it to strike me
And I won't move out of its way
It will get me
but I won't let it cover me
I'll take it
I'll fold it
I'll lay it aside
And I'll call you 
to stand right here where I'm standing
You choose and come
You choose and go
The profit of your choice will be evaluated*
either instantly or at the next crossroads
even though you won't have realised it,
my sibling.


Z.K. 

        
*real profit is warmth in a heart, a wholehearted smile, the support of a friend, things with a value much greater than money.



(written in 2012)

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

A La Gare

 Monet : La Gare Saint- Lazare


À La Gare

Nous sommes à la gare.
La journée est couvert.
Quelques trains sont parties.
Des autres, ils arrivent.
Dans le dépôt, les chemins
dégagent des fumes blanches,
comme les cotonniers accouchent
de la ouate.

Le train qui arrives maintenant
ports des cadeaux
pour tous ces gents
qui maintiennent l' espoir
sur la pointe d' attendre.

Et nous?
Nous pursuivons notre jeu
d' observer la vie entre
les "Bienvenues" et les "Adieus"...


At the station

We are at the railway station.
The day is overcast.
Some trains have left.
Others arrive.
In the terminal, their steamers 
give off white smoke,
like the cotton plants yield
cotton wool balls.

The train arriving now
is bringing gifts 
for all those people there
who maintain hope
on the peak of expectation.

And we?
We go on with our game 
of observing life between 
the "Welcomes" and the "Goodbyes".




Z.K.


(written in 2008)



Reflective Rose


(Salvador Dali, "Meditative Rose")


Reflective Rose

Barren beings 
upon a barren landscape
while the sun bestows horizons
with hazy hues of red and yellow
to underline its retirement.
Tomorrow is on people's hands.

Two of them,
face to face,
count their encounter,
giving off red feelings
that form petals
and create a reflective rose
in the air.

Should it be a dewdrop
the tiny glossy fragment of water
upon that petal
- or just a tear?

The rose has conquered the sky,
it has occupied the ether...
Whether it withers
by the first morning light
or it stays a fresh love monument
up there
is only a matter of
what the outcome
of this encounter 
will be,
as soon as the sun
sends its beams
to meet this blooming offspring
of the barren beings.


Έρημες υπάρξεις

πάνω σ' ένα έρημο τοπίο 
καθώς ο ήλιος κληροδοτεί ορίζοντες
με θολές αποχρώσεις κόκκινου και κίτρινου
για να υπογραμμίσει την αποχωρηση του.
Το αύριο είναι στα χέρια των ανθρώπων.

Δύο υπάρξεις
Πρόσωπο με προσωπο
αναμετρουν τη συνάντηση τους
αναδινοντας κόκκινα συναισθήματα
που σχηματίζουν πέταλα
και δημιουργούν ενα σκεφτικό ρόδο
στον αέρα.

Να είναι αραγε στάλα δροσιάς 
Το μικροσκοπικό γυαλιστερό ψηγμα νερού
πανω σ' εκείνο το πέταλο
- ή μόνο ένα δάκρυ;

Το ρόδο έχει κυριεύσει τον ουρανό
εχει κάνει κατάληψη στον αιθέρα...
Αν θα μαραθεί
απο το πρώτο πρωινό φως
αν θα μείνει ένα φρέσκο μνημείο αγάπης
εκει πανω
εξαρταται μόνο από 
την εκβαση αυτής της συνάντησης
αμεσως μόλις ο ήλιος 
στείλει τις ακτινες του
να συναντήσουν αυτον τον ανθισμένο απόγονο
των ερημων υπάρξεων.


Z.K.


(written in 2008)


Blue Water Lillies

["Nympheas" ('Blue Water Lillies"), Claude Monet]


Blue Water Lillies

Clouds dive into the lake
acquiring a mauve blue mantle
in order to take part in
the colourful feast of the lilies.
Shape and hue infusion,
intertwined power
of a marvellous mixture.
Pink flakes on a surface
That could have been a rich bottom 
for the sky.
Some dark spots foretell the night.
Scarce weeping willow strings
decorate the scene
like a curtain of vanity,
not having fallen
over the whole stage yet,
for the glooming fair of life
is still young and thriving.
The sunset will summon solemnity.



Z.K.

(written in 2008)

 

The Tale Of The Dreaming Woman


(Winslow Homer - Young Girl At Window 1875)



The Tale Of The Woman Who'd Been Awaiting

There the day dimmed,
on the bank of faith,
which rolled enviably
in dancing movements, 
two kisses further from a tear,
without a lie and sincerely hers.
What's hidden in human hearts...

Disclosed she'd already been,
and remained this way
when the dusk came,
every evening there
on the gallery, a night owl:
"It'll come since I'm expecting its dawn!"
The night recognized her and quivered
with the familiar dither everything new brings...

She laughed when she was left alone,
all by herself,
- her comb always next to her pillow -
and she stared at the sea.
Then she knew the answer,
she found out the news 
and sang them...

In a hostile mood against time,
she inconsiderately dispersed the moments
during her wanderings.
Exploring the air,
her thoughts danced in a row
but she couldn't reach
a logical conclusion...

When, at last,it arrived on her hands, 
plaintive,
and it remained untouched
- it was an old debt -
it stopped being a secret
and taught her the future.




Z.K.



(written in 1990)


With Zeal


(Zafiria Kostopoulou, 2007)


With Zeal

A bullet from you the judges set as an award,
and I set off with zeal to stretch 
a banner on the mast of my ship.

No...I'll start it over again...

A spider over me knitted its web,
and I ran with zeal to fall in the trap
so that you'd not find me.

No...it's not exactly like this...

A Yes by you winged in my dreams,
and I rushed with zeal to shoot it
and get it, to be mine.

Hmmm...it looks like it fits now...

A swarm of hopes excites me pleasantly.
I wonder, will you come with zeal
to meet my zeal?


Με ζήλο

Μια σφαίρα από σένα οι κριτές αθλοθέτησαν
κι έτρεξα με ζήλο ν' απλώσω
λάβαρο στα κατάρτια μου.

Όχι...Θα το παρω απ' την αρχή...

Μια αράχνη τον ιστό της έπλεξε από πανω μου
κι έτρεξα με ζήλο να πέσω
στην παγίδα, να μη με βεις.

Οχι...Δεν είναι έτσι ακριβώς...

Ενα Ναι απο σένα φτερούγισε πανω μου
κι έτρεξα με ζήλο να ριξω 
μπαλωθιές και το ξαμωσα.

Χμμ...Σα να ταιριάζει τώρα...

Ενα σμήνος ελπίδες με ταράζει ευχάριστα
Αραγε, θα 'ρθεις με ζήλο
ν' ανταμώσεις το ζήλο μου; 
Z.K.


(written in 1996)

 


Nothing Muffled






Nothing Muffled

My voice is running away...
In simple tone I love you.
There's no direction.
Departure reflects a lot.
With a laurel branch now
I challenge you:
Come, unravel what's muffled!

My candles I watch burning.
Deficiencies travel me.
Easily I pretend
that I'm supported by tenacity.
What does the crust let you
- I wonder -
to see now that it's open...

I trace clues 
and passages I seek.
A truth I told
I may measure around here
Wherever you are,
dare to confront
 the quest of a soul! 




Z.K.


(written in 1995)



Primeval


(Vincent Van Gogh, "Starry Night")


Primeval


In α sky where there's no haven my youth rolled...
On α cloudy earth my life as well...

On the light zone of love
your star shines as a crown.
Do you remember when 
you lit up my gloomy being 
for the first time?
Do you know which this memory is
that treads my fields 
under its feet?
You know me;
Aren't I the one
who, like a weeping willow,
bend my branches over the earth?

The brass sparkles 
under the brightness of gold.
The gems from your eyes
stuck onto a throne.
On it the dream sat.

Like a dewdrop, 
illusion falls on my shut eyelashes.
My tear spreads blurry
on my iris.
A river the pain 
Valleys my cheeks.

My heartache...



Z.K.



(written in 1986)