ΟΛΙΓΗ ΦΙΛΟΣΟΦΙΑ ΠΕΡΙ ΘΑΝΑΤΟΥ ΚΑΙ ΖΩΗΣ

Πεθαίνει μόνο ό,τι αφήνουμε να πεθάνει. 
Ζει ό,τι κρατούμε ζωντανό. 
Η ανθρώπινη ψυχή και το πνεύμα δίνει πνοή 
σ' αυτό που ορίζουμε ως πραγματικότητα
Άρα η πραγματικότητα του καθενός μας 
είναι ένας νοητός χώρος άκρως υποκειμενικός
όπου μπορούμε μέσω της ανάμνησης και της φαντασίας 
να κρατάμε ζωντανούς τους θησαυρούς μας
Η δυστυχία
η μοναξιά και ο θάνατος 
μπορούν να θεωρηθούν ως δυσλειτουργίες 
του παραπάνω φιλόδοξου φιλοσοφικού σεναρίου.

SOME PHILOSOPHY ON LIFE AND DEATH

The only thing that dies is what we let die. Whatever we keep alive, it can live . The human soul and spirit gives breath to what we define as reality. So the reality of each of us is a highly subjective conceptual space where we can keep alive our treasures through memory and imagination . Unhappiness, loneliness and death can be seen as malfunctions of this ambitious philosophical scenario. 

ΣΠΟΝΔΗ ΣΤΗΝ ΕΜΙΛΥ

" 1653 -της ΕΜΙΛΥ ΝΤΙΚΙΝΣΟΝ (1830-1886) 

Λοιπόν δώσε με πίσω στο Θάνατο-

Το Θάνατο που δεν φοβήθηκα ποτέ

Παρά μονάχα όταν σε στέρησε από μένα-

Και τώρα, στερημένη απ’ τη Ζωή,

Μες το δικό μου Τάφο ανασαίνω

Κι όλο μετρώ το μέγεθός του-

Το μέγεθός του, ό,τι μπορεί να φανταστεί η Κόλαση-

Κι αυτά που ήσαν Ουρανός-

------------------------------------------------------------

*Μετάφραση Ερρίκος Σοφράς

 "

" 1671 -της ΕΜΙΛΥ ΝΤΙΚΙΝΣΟΝ

Πάρτε ό,τι έχω στη ζωή, αφήστε μου την έκσταση,

Και θα 'χω περισσότερα εγώ απ' τον καθένα-

Μπορώ με πλούτη να περνώ,

όταν στην πόρτα μου μπροστά

Όσοι κατέχουν πιο πολλά στη φτώχεια ζουν, στη στέρηση;

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Μετάφραση: Ερρίκος Σοφράς "

Τάφος για εμένα

ο νοητός θάνατος 

της απουσίας σου.

Αυτή απεχθάνομαι

αυτή με σήπει

πρωθύστερα

κι απ' το χαμό.

Ας ήσουν,

ακόμα και σαν όνειρο.

Μα δυστυχώς έπαψα

πλέον να ονειρεύομαι.

Αμφίρροπη παρηγοριά

η εκστατική σου ανάμνηση.

Ζω όπως αέναα ξεπηδά

μέσα απ' την ποίησή μου.

Ευτυχώ ετεροχρονισμένα,

συντηρώντας σε

επιμελώς

απέθαντο.

LIBATION IN EMILY

"Emily Dickinson - So give me back to Death --

So give me back to Death --

The Death I never feared

Except that it deprived of thee --

And now, by Life deprived,

In my own Grave I breathe

And estimate its size --

Its size is all that Hell can guess --

And all that Heaven was --"

"Take all away from me, but leave me Ecstasy, by Emily Dickinson

1640

Take all away from me, but leave me Ecstasy,

And I am richer then than all my Fellow Men —

Ill it becometh me to dwell so wealthily

When at my very Door are those possessing more,

In abject poverty —"

A grave for me,

the noetic death 

of your absence.

I detest this

I putrefy

preposterously

even before the loss.

Wish you were here,

even as dream.

It's sad, I stopped 

no longer dreaming.

Ambivalent 

consolation,

ecstatic memory.

I live as it 

endlessly bursts

through my poetry.

I become happy 

but untimely,

in preserving 

your sweet presence

thoroughly undead.

(cc)

OFFERING

Jean-Baptiste Greuze - Morning Prayer

One day, my love,
I will be tired
to sing for you.

Yes, my words will
hush forever
I won't hurt you.

You sing your songs
elsewhere, as I
see deep inside,

what was the lie 
about you from
all that I loved.

A conclusion
not deriving,
I feel different .

I smile though to
the invisible
thread that unites

our lives even
for moments, for 
the offered joy.

It was not that
you have loved me,
I'm still puzzled.

But just that is!
The inside greatness
I felt through you ...

NEVER TRUST THE POETS

Poetry is not feelings, and images and all that most poets usually write .
Reason for which Plato expelled them from his ideal Politeia.
Poetry means Geometry, means mathematics, means approach of the Kosmos (Kosmos=World from Kosmema=jewelry and the mathematical harmony which is holding it - the eternal beauty)of the phenomena and of human beings through geodesic domes (a geodesic dome is a triangulation of a Platonic solid or other polyhedron to produce a close approximation to a sphere (or hemisphere)). 
Remember that "Let no one who doesn't know geometry get in " out of the Academy of Plato (who was also a great poet).
In the sixth premise of his poem "Free Besieged", the national Greek Poet Solomos says:
"The meaning of the poem is a world mathematically graduated."
We, the poets, mentioned to me a friend, we are strange people and the worst objectively companions. Nobody should ever believe us completely. We usually write what we feel at the moment, we want at all costs to express that which pushes us internally, what we would like to live, the passion that devours our soul. So we can say or write the biggest lies, things which will remain wishful thinking, things that will never see the light of our reality, in the most persuasive and charming way. We are not what we write, but we would like to, we live for writing. We can not do anything else. We survive thanks to our tale, thanks to our dream. We are sinners Narcissi who are trying to communicate mirroring in the soul of our companion the love for our own soul and the fear of its loss.

ΜΗΝ ΕΜΠΙΣΤΕΥΕΣΑΙ ΤΟΥΣ ΠΟΙΗΤΕΣ

".............Η ποίηση δεν είναι μόνο τα συναισθήματα, και οι εικόνες και όλα αυτά που κάνουν οι περισσότεροι ποιητές.

Λόγος για τον οποίο τους εξόρισε ο Πλάτων από την ιδεώδη Πολιτεία του.

I HATE CANCER!

Blame my damn distinction for keeping me away from you. Many times I thought: What will happen if I come to meet you and you buy me a coffee? Anyone would dare. I missed you so much! You was a friend first and foremost, and your physical presence would reassure me, love in my eyes would reanimate your hope. As much as I need to see you, you would have too. I came several times outside your door, sat in the tavern opposite, in spying, lifted many times the phone to talk to you. I did not.
As you sickened , you started to change. This cursed cancer ate you as a whole. Rallied you came back to basics. Seeing your rapid decline, not controlling the effects of the exhausting treatment and the illness's progression, you were pitying yourself, but you did not want to be pitied.
But I love you. You would never be seen by me differently. I would never lose my hope for you. I longed for your soul and for gaining more time next to you, especially now that the threat of a future shortage was obvious and rapid.
You knew how much I suffered. Knew, but you did not want to share this awful pain, nor to be concerned with my distress about it, to be extorted from your hard champion's fight .
You had your own family to support them and to be supported, their anguish to face ahead, you lapped to win for them, with them to be hugged.
Furthermore it was you and yourself in battle. In a duel no third is shuffled , except the trustworthy witnesses.
On the other hand you dreamed about our own relationship in different conditions and now it seemed your plan was sinking, our ship hit a reef, so we should abandon the ship.
I 've been excluded, blocked. Violently. You did not have the luxury to think about it. Maybe that way your problem was moving away from me. Maybe that way I would be saved from your agony.
But I loved you and I still love you. The human soul is dissolved by such separations. It trivializes. Loses its purpose, its essence, its rationale. What's the point in having my love for you in my heart if I do not accompany you discreetly even from afar in your suffering?
What I experienced in your case I describe it in one word: hell. Yeah, so I set myself to hell. When being thirsty to drink I can not find where, when I want me to stand by you and I am chased away, when I want to take advantage of every second to contact and I must wait for an uncertain future, when I want to prove my feelings and I'm rejected.
And this Hell is still continuing, I remain with the phone in my hand without calling you, because this damn distinction of mine keep whispering in my ear that you have any right to remain silent; you have any right to keep me away...

ΑΝ ΕΓΩ ΕΙΜΑΙ ΕΔΩ / SE SONO QUI BY ANTONIO BLUNDA VIDEOPOEM-TRANSLATION- RECITED BY CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU

SE SONO QUI


Se io son qui
quando la Tua sera
è un'isola di stanchezza

se son qui
e nient'altro vince
contro tutto il dolore
che Tu ed io


se io son qui
e se non posso fermarmi
sarà che il mio cuore è acceso
e non è un calcolo freddo


Questa sera è di stanchezza
ed io son qui per Te
con cento ragioni dell' universo

E non sono altro
che la Tua piccola sosta
sorridente
nei campi delle lanterne
(A Dio)
copyright 2012 Antonio Blunda


AN EIMAI ΕΔΩ

Αν εγώ είμαι εδώ
τότε που η νυχτιά Σου
είναι νήσος για το μόχθο

Αν βρεθώ εδώ
και δεν θα νικήσει άλλος κανείς
κόντρα σ' όποια οδύνη
παρεκτός Εσύ κι εγώ


Αν εγώ είμαι εδώ
κι αν αδυνατώ να σταματήσω
θα'ναι απ' την καρδιά μου μέσα
και όχι από ψυχρό υπολογισμό


Τούτη τη νυχτιά του μόχθου
είμαι εδώ μαζί Σου
για εκατό λόγους στο Σύμπαν


Και δεν είμαι άλλο
πέρα απ' τη  μικρή ανάπαυλά Σου
για χαμόγελο
κάτω από τις ουράνιες απλωσιές των καντηλιών Σου.

( Στο Θεό)

ΜΕΤΑΦΡΑΣΗ: ΧΡΥΣΑ ΒΕΛΗΣΣΑΡΙΟΥ

IF I AM HERE

If I am here
when Your evening
is an island of tiredness

if i am here
and nothing else wins
against all the pain
like You and I

if I am here
and if I can not stop myself
it will be that my heart is turned on
and it's not a cold calculation

This evening is of tiredness
and I am here for You
with a hundred reasons of the universe

And i'm nothing else other
that Your short break
smiling
in the fields of lanterns

(to God)

Translation: Antonio Blunta

TOGETHER

Do not belittle
your sweet body
that unites us.

I am with you
now from loving
and not for love.

Ach, those kisses
that I gave you
were sealing us.

But you felt as
if I want them
because of lust.

We fell in love
You craved for me
so we are one.

Eros became
the fitting key
for the approach.

I don't regret 
the paradise
I found on earth.

Begotten joy
sterile the grief
and removal.

My victory
here I'm with you
Above passion.

I won't seek you
you're inside me
resurrected.