Καλώς ήλθατε!

Καλώς ήλθατε!

Friday, 2 November 2012

ΑΦΙΕΡΩΜΑ ΣΤΟ ΦΙΛΟ ΠΟΙΗΤΗ ANTONIO BLUNDA ΑΠΟ ΤΟ PALERMO ΤΗΣ ΙΤΑΛΙΑΣ/ TRIBUTE TO ANTONIO BLUNDA FROM PALERMO, ITALY



Ο αγαπητός μου φίλος Antonio Blunda είναι ένας εξαίρετος Ιταλός ποιητής από το Παλέρμο, με τον οποίο επικοινωνούμε πνευματικά εδώ και κάμποσο καιρό, μέσω των ποιημάτων μας και αμφίδρομων μεταφράσεών τους στις μητρικές μας γλώσσες. Πιστεύω ότι αξίζει να τον γνωρίσετε και τον ευχαριστώ για τα ποιήματά του και το βιογραφικό, που μου έστειλε για το σκοπό αυτό.  / My  friend Antonio Blunda is an excellent Italian fellow poet from Palermo, with whom I communicate intellectually some time ago, through our poems and through  mutual translations of them in our mother languages. I believe that it is worthy to know about him and I thank him again for the material he sent to me for this purpose.
One of his thoughts he shared with me during our personal conversations. Hope he doesn't mind I put it here:

" Your friendship is my honor. I think there's no nation, when there's a common thinking about art, culture, emotions. Greece, Italy, France,Spain...no countries or different people, but only a big nation of human beings that go in the same direction..."

BIO

 Born in Erice (TP) on 26.02.1972, residing until the age of 4 years in Marsala.
Later in Palermo, where he still lives and has practiced as a lawyer.
Begins to approach the poetry around age 6, starting then to read and write poetry.
The authors absolute favorites are Hikmet and Ungaretti.
Among the cultivated passions: literature, poetry, fiction, quantum physics, history, philosophy.
Begin to participate in contests of poetry and fiction by chance, at the suggestion of a friend, but as of October 2000, collecting over the years a lot of support.
Maintains a blog on www.antonioblunda.wordpress.com, where it welcomes, tells and shows themes and articles of various kinds, and in particular interest relating to contemporary poetry.
It 'author chosen for an interview in the magazine Italian-Argentine "agora magazine.
And 'this on several Italian and foreign literary magazines.
Many of his poems have been translated amicably in English, Spanish, French, and Arabic, thanks to some friends and co-workers as well as in Italy, Jordan, Iran, United States, France, Spain, Argentina, Philippines.
Reporting about the 26th International Poetry Prize 2001 announced Unprecedented dall'ASLA (Sicilian Association for Literature and the Arts);
6th place in the National Award Literary "Open Scars" 2001, organized by the literary magazines "The Masada" and "Prospektiva";
1st place at the National Poetry Prize Unprecedented "2 G" 2002, published by the Youth Group "2 G" Barcellona Pozzo di Gotto (Me);
Report of Merit for the section unpublished poetry Award "G. Palumbo "2002, published by the City of Ficarazzi (Pa);
4 ° tied to the First National Prize for unpublished poem "City Funds" published in 2002 by 'ANGAE (National Association of Young Emerging Artists) Funds (Lt);
Selected for the "Encyclopedia of Italian poets emerging" 2002-2003 published by 'Aletti Editore;
Special mention for the International Poetry Prize "Mountain alive" 2002 edition, published by the Mountain Community of Valtellina Morbegno;
Report of Merit Award for the narrative section "G. Palumbo "2004, published by the City of Ficarazzi (Pa);
Selected "Author of the Month" for the month of February 2004 the monthly contest sponsored by the literary website ilfiloonline.it;
1st place in the literary prize "Peace Prize" 2004 sponsored by the Centro Studi di Torino Culture and Society;
Author chosen for the Region of Sicily for the "Encyclopedia of regional emerging poets" published dall'Aletti Publisher;
Finalist for the narrative section in the National Award Telethon 2004;
Reporting on the Poetry Prize "James Giardina" 4th edition (2005) - Department of Culture of the Municipality of Bagheria;
1st place in the Literary Prize "Giulio Palumbo" - Narrative Section - 4th Edition 2005 - City of Ficarazzi (Pa)
Literary Award finalist in the "Calicantus" 2006, unpublished poetry section with a religious theme;
3rd place in the literary prize "Bishop Galbiati IV Edition - Section unpublished poetry - Carugo (Co);
Honorable mention to Literary Prize "Sprig silver" 2007 - Section unpublished anthology - Paceco (Tp);
Certificate of merit to Literary Prize "Words and Images" - Seventeenth Edition 2007 - City of Boves;
Special Prize of the criticism of the tenth edition of the 2008 Prize "Groane98" - section unpublished poetry - Garbagnate Milanese (Mi);
Narratives-finalist at the 2008 Writers Section organized by "Emergency Creative" (www.emergenzacreativa.com);
Reporting on the 2nd Edition of the Prize "Pillars of Eroma" 2008 - S. Flavia (Pa) - section podium;
Author chosen for the Encyclopedia of Contemporary Italian Poets - 2009, published by Aletti Editore;
Author chosen for the "Agenda 2010 of the artists" (competition organized by "Estro-Towards Community Italian Authors, Artists and Publishers www.estro-verso.org;
Finalist for the "aphorisms" in the competition organized by the site www.pensieriparole.it;
Finalist in the 1st International Prize for Literature Poetry and Painting Facebook users;
Finalist Award "Arenella" section unpublished poems, organized by the Association. cultural "Palermo Cult - thought" 2010;
Finalist Award "Valenzine" 2011 (www.scripta-volant.org);
Author chosen for the Prize "Extroversi 2011" - Palermo;
Certificate of Honor Award "Vivarium - Tribute to John Paul II" - 2011;
Diploma of Merit at the XXI edition of the Prize "Words and Images" - Mella na Boves 2011;
Report of Merit at the sixth edition of the Prize "Ut unum sint" - Ecumenical Patriarchate World 2011;
Jury Prize at the fourth edition of the Literary Award Interrnazionale "Fortunato Pasqualino" - 2011;
1st place winner in the Literary Premo "Arenella - Palermo" 2012 - sect. Poetry in Italian;
1st place in the 5th edition of the online literary prize organized by the Publishing House "Rupe Mutable"
2nd place tied to the III International Competition of the poem "The Angel" - 2012 Edition;
Certificate of Merit Award Literary Ibiskos 2012;
Special Grand Prize "Poets for the Republic" - THEATRE CULTURE ASSOCIATION "BENJAMIN JOPPOLO" 2012;
Finalist for the "unprecedented anthology" to the seventh edition of the National Poetry "Calicanthus" 2012;
Honorable Mention Award at the 2nd edition of the "Verses in Harmony" 2012 - organized by the cultural Palermo Cult Thought;
Certificate of Merit to Literary Prize "Words and Images" - Mellana of Boves (CN) XXII edition 2012;
Italian author on this American literary magazine "Californian Quarterly" vol. 36 n.2;
Italian author on this American literary magazine "Californian Quarterly" vol. 36 4;
1st place in the photo contest "My Palermo" 2012;Present on several websites and literary anthologies;          
Many of his poems have been translated amicably in English, Spanish, French, GREEK and Arabic, thanks to some friends and co-workers as well as in Italy, GREECE, Jordan, Iran, United States, France, Spain, Argentina, Philippines.

Μερικά από τα ποιήματά του παρακάτω σε δική μου μετάφραση/Some of his poems are following:


"THIS NIGHT THERE WAS A WAR"

This night there was a war
My father dedicated to me a song
a long time message
My walking on a street
still I can’t see now
where it’ ll arrive
This night there was a war
piles of blankets in a room
I found obstacles on my land
two doctors were shot dead
and we remember them
as great men who are lost
World was played cards
suffering like I did not remember
This night there was a war
heaps of obstacles in my life
Then
I found a piano
and sat down to play
I reminded life
i remind it to me
in honor of your memory, father
i reminded
of yours.


"ΚΕΙΝΗ ΤΗ ΝΥΧΤΑ ΠΟΥ ΕΓΙΝΕ ΕΝΑΣ ΠΟΛΕΜΟΣ"

Κείνη τη νύχτα που έγινε ένας πόλεμος
Ο πατέρας  μου αφιέρωσε ένα τραγούδι
ένα μακροσκελές μήνυμα 
Βάδισα σε ένα στρατί
που ακόμα και τώρα δεν μπορώ να αντιληφθώ 
το πού θα καταλήξει
Κείνη τη νύχτα που έγινε ένας πόλεμος
στοίβες από κουβέρτες σε ένα δωμάτιο
Έπεσα πάνω σε κάτι εμπόδια στη γη μου κι ήταν
δύο γιατροί που πυροβολήθηκαν και σκοτώθηκαν
και εμείς τους θυμόμαστε
σαν δυο  μεγάλους άνδρες που έχουν χαθεί
Ο κόσμος παίχτηκε στα χαρτιά
υποφέροντας κι ας μη θυμάμαι εγώ πια
Κείνο το βράδυ που υπήρχε πόλεμος
στοίβες τα εμπόδια στη ζωή μου
Όποτε
βρίσκω ένα πιάνο
και καθίσω να παίξω
θυμάμαι πως ζω
ξαναθυμίζω  τη ζωή  σε εμένα
τιμώντας τη  μνήμη σου, πατέρα 
θυμάμαι πάντα
πώς έζησες.


“QUESTA NOTTE C'E' STETA UNA GUERRA”

Questa notte c'è stata una guerra
Mio padre mi ha dedicato una canzone
un messaggio da molto tempo
Il mio camminare per strada
ancora non riesco a vedere ora
dove arriverò
Questa notte c'è stata una guerra
mucchi di coperte in una stanza
Ho trovato ostacoli sulla mia terra
due medici sono stati uccisi
e noi li ricordiamo
come i grandi uomini che sono perduti
Il mondo è stato giocato a carte
soffrendo, come io non mi ricordo
Questa notte c'è stata una guerra
cumuli di ostacoli nella mia vita
Poi
ho trovato un pianoforte
e mi sedetti a suonare
Ho ricordato la vita
io la ricordo a me
in onore della tua memoria, padre,
ho ricordato la tua.
"FRAGILITY"

Play something
my fragile mechanical engine
that shout and guzzle.

Fly,on the birth,
on the master road
at the rising of the first shadow
of that late last evening.

Peck me well
careless
on my liver
on my whole meat
or on a red stick.

as well as made on me
a richety
old dove
taken in the cold.

"ΕΥΑΙΣΘΗΣΙΑ"

Παίξε κάτι
ευάλωτή εντός μου μηχανή , 
που κλαις και ξεφωνίζεις .

Πέτα, στη γέννηση
στο δάσκαλο δρόμο
σαν τις πρώτες σκιές
το βράδυ.

Κέντρισέ με έντονα
κι απρόσεκτα,
τρύπα μου το συκώτι,
τη σάρκα μου όλη
με το ραβδί σου το κόκκινο,

όπως τότε με τσιμπολογούσε
παλιά ένα περιστέρι,
ξεθεωμένο απ' την πείνα,
ελπίζοντας να λάβει κάτι μες στην παγωνιά.

"FRAGILITA' "
Suona qualcosa
mio fragile motore meccanico
che gridi e ti ingozzi.

Vola, sul nascere,
sulla strada maestra
al sorgere delle prime ombre
di quel tardi ier sera.

Beccami pure
incurante
sul fegato
sulla mia carne intera
o su una canna rossa

così come m'ha fatto
una vecchia colomba
sgangherata
presa nel freddo.

And an other one that I really loved!!!



One of his poems translated by me and put in a video





Antonio Blunda
antonioblunda.wordpress.com
Curiosità, piccole cose, storie e pensieri.

Baci Antonio!!!

Wednesday, 31 October 2012

ΣΤΟ ΣΤΑΘΜΟ

  Περιμένω στο σταθμό. Καθισμένη πάνω σ΄ ένα βαγόνι αποσκευών.Μια παρέα νεαρών συζητούν ανέμελα, γελούν. Μια κοπελιά χαχανίζει. Είδε λέει ένα κομήτη. Πεφταστέρι ήταν, την πειράζουν οι φίλοι της. Όχι ήταν μεγάλο και φωτεινό, κομήτης ήταν, επιμένει ναζιάρικα εκείνη. Τους χαζεύω.
    Φθινοπωρινή ψύχρα. Μια καμπάνα ακούγεται μελωδικά από μακριά. Το ρολόι στη στέγη δείχνει μια παράξενη ώρα, σταματημένο από καιρό.
    "Το παλιό ρολόι του μικρού σταθμού στάθηκε στην ώρα του αποχωρισμού..." 
    Σ' αυτό το σταθμό, τέτοια ώρα, πριν από αιώνες αποχαιρέτησα τον πρώτο μου έρωτα κλαίγοντας απαρηγόρητη. Πάντα όταν έρχομαι εδώ, φοβάμαι ότι κάπου, κάπως θα πέσω πάνω του. Θα μορφάσω  και θα εκτεθώ. Ωστόσο ούτε καν θα τον αναγνώριζα. Δε θυμάμαι το πρόσωπό του. Θυμάμαι μόνο τα μάτια του. Δακρυσμένα, αλλά σκληρά. Με είχε πετάξει απ' την καρδιά του. Με κοιτούσε απ' το παράθυρο του κουπέ μου μέχρι την αναχώρηση. Τα τελευταία λόγια του: " Πρέπει να σ' έχω κάνει να μισήσεις τους άντρες..."
Ε λοιπόν, δεν τους μίσησα. Τίποτε στη ζωή τελικά δεν είναι μόνιμα τραγικό. Όλα εξομαλύνονται. Αυτό είναι ίσως  το μόνο τραγικό.
    Αγάπησα ξανά και πάντα πολύ. Συνήθως εις βάρος μου. Μάλλον, δεν ξέρω. Ίσως συνήθως εις βάρος τους. Αδιευκρίνιστο... Το  πιο πιθανό εις βάρος κανενός.
    Η καμπάνα χτυπάει ένα τέλος πάλι.
    Τα μακριά σου μαλλιά. Ο αέρας τα έπαιρνε, τ' ανακάτευε, έμπαιναν μέσα στα μάτια σου. Τα παραμέριζες ανήσυχος για να με δεις. Με περίμενες. Φαινόσουν τόσο κουρασμένος. Ήθελες να σηκώσεις τη βαλίτσα μου. Ήταν βαριά, είχα τύψεις. Ήθελα να συναντήσω τα χείλη σου. Ακόμα μια φορά, ήταν τόσο απαλά, σα να φιλούσα τα χειλάκια ενός βρέφους. Κι η αγκαλιά σου... Χωρούσα ολόκληρη μέσα.
    Με περίμενες. Ήταν τόσο προφανές πώς με περίμενες. Σαν τη βροχή, που τόσο αγαπάς. Σαν τον άνεμο, που παρασύρει τη σκόνη. Το παρελθόν. Με περίμενες σα να μη πίστευες ότι θά 'ρθω. Αχ, πόση ανάγκη είχα να με περιμένεις!
    Η καμπάνα σημαίνει ένα ακόμα τέλος. Θέλω να σταματήσει. Μα τι νόημα έχει; Αυτός είναι ο ρόλος της. Να χτυπάει. Και το τέλος πάντα έρχεται...
    Πόνος! Κεραυνός. Δε μπορώ πια να διακρίνω, αν αυτό ήταν το τέλος ή η αρχή. Ήταν τόσο σιμά αυτό το τέλος με την αρχή! "Είσαι τόσο διαφορετική σήμερα", μου είχες πει. Έψαχνες  τρόπο να μ' αγγίζεις συνέχεια. Ανυπόμονα. Σα να βιαζόσουν. Σα να είχες λίγο χρόνο. Σα να είχες ήδη αποφασίσει. Να είχες ήδη δει...
    Εγώ όμως ποτέ δε σε χόρτασα. Για εμένα δεν είχε νόημα ένα τέλος. Μόνο το διαισθανόμουν.
Μου είπες, "πρέπει να φύγω". Ήταν η τελευταία φορά, που σε είδα. Ήθελες να περάσεις όλο το βράδυ μαζί μου. Αναστέναζες όλη νύχτα στην αγκαλιά μου σαν παιδί. 
    Το ξημέρωμα στη βεράντα είδα τον ήλιο ν' ανατέλει ανάμεσα στις κεραίες κι ένιωσα την ψυχή μου να δύει, μόνη ένιωσα την αρχή του τέλους. 
    Ένιωσα το νήμα, που ένωνε τις ψυχές μας, να γίνεται μίτος, να σ' οδηγεί στο δνοφερό λαβύρινθο, απ' όπου δε σε είδα να βγαίνεις ξανά. Πολεμάς. Πολεμάς ακόμα το Μινώταυρο. Ήσουν τόσο κουρασμένος, μα θα τον νικήσεις! Ξέχασες όμως ότι σε περίμενα. Ξέχασες πως ήμουν δεμένη στην ψυχή σου. Ξέχασες πως ήμουν το άλλο σου μισό. Πάλευες στα μαρμαρένια αλώνια. Δεν το είπα σε κανέναν, σε κανένα δε σε πρόδωσα. Μόνο κοίταγα τους οιωνούς. Προσπαθούσα να διακρίνω, αν κινείσαι ακόμα, αν αντιδράς. 
    Πλέον το ξέρω πως δε θέλεις να γυρίσεις πίσω. Κι ας είχες δέσει την ψυχή μου. Πίστεψες από καιρό θα έχει κοπεί το νήμα. Όμως είναι εδώ να την έλκει , να την ξεριζώνει. Όταν πέφτεις, χάνεται κι η δικιά μου ψυχή. Εσύ έκανες το ξόρκι. Εσύ μόνο μπορούσες να το λύσεις. Είναι παράξενο οι άνθρωποι, πόσο δειλοί είναι, σαν πρέπει να πουν αντίο. 
    Μόνο αυτό ήθελα. Μόνο αυτό. Να με κοιτάξεις με τα ματάκια σου στο χρώμα του βάλτου και να μου πεις: "Φεύγω τώρα. Πάντα ρει..." Να νιώσω το αντίο. Ν' αξίζω ένα αντίο. Να μη χαραμιστεί που σβήνει η ψυχούλα μου. Να οριοθετήσω το μαζί κι όχι απλά να το υποθέτω. Να πω μέχρι εδώ ήταν. 
    Μη θυμώνεις μ' ό,τι σου λέει η αγάπη μου... Γιατί εγώ αναπόφευκτα φοβάμαι, ό,τι φοβάσαι κι εσύ.Δε δύναμαι να αποστασιοποιηθώ. Είμαι το άλλο σου μισό.
   copyright2012 by Chryssa Velissariou 

Saturday, 27 October 2012

DREAMS CONQUEROR FIBONACCI

Morning Sleep
(oil on canvas)
Eshaliev Eldar

you 
keep
me open 
all the time 
even when you're gone
you intrude in me during my sleep 
claiming you're the owner of my dreams for ever!



A SAND CLOCK

What does the time can do 
.to people and emotions I
Sand_Clock_by_s_caruso
..felt, how easy are they
...extinguish under thick
....veil of history which
.....the remembrances
......are often wearing
.......You are for me
........the complete 
.........past my old
..........world oh,I
...........felt such
............sorrow
.............under
..............that!
...............Oh,
................I,
...............an
..............open
.............mind I
...........will need
..........to heal with
.........a crying poem
........my open wound.
.......You will be inside
......me, at least I 'll try
.....to gather untouched a
....memory of you so clear
...as flowing source's water
..where I'll quench my thirst
.whenever reality is too sour
to bear.I'm not unarmed now!
You created my dreams shield.






Friday, 26 October 2012

THE TEACHER

PAINTING: WILLIAM BOUGUEREAU - PAIN OF LOVE



"...to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, ..." (2 Cor. 12:7)
Often this thorn offers me intolerable physical pain. I do not remember the age when the pain began to teach me.

Tuesday, 16 October 2012

OPENESS ETHEREE


What a wonderful world would be on earth
if human souls were open to 
meet the soul of everyone near 
without suspicion or fear
just diving into eyes' depths
to explore the waters
of their innocence
that paradise on Earth 
where the kids 
who we 
were 

copyright10/10/2012 by Chryssa Velissariou


THIS

Painting by the Bangladeshian S M Sultan
Something is happening.
Something very big is happening
in your life
as though in mine.
Something like an eradication.
It feels like a hard clenching
at the top of my stomach.
Often I think that I'm hungry,
But it is just This again.
It feels like twitching caused to huge sadness.
As if it's missing a key ingredient
I interpret incorrectly
as food's need.
What I need is your hand
searching me, touching me.
So I wouldn't fear evil,that grows on and on around.
I miss that hand on me..
But I don't find it anymore even in my dream.
I kept it really for so little!
What unlikely, how many details I recall of it.
Its touch, its warmth, its smell, the exact shape of the fingers,
the color, the length of the nails, even the palm's lines...
Its nerve, its lust, the seeking of its movement towards me.
I should sooner win on my emotions,
speak earlier so that I could keep locked in verses the details,
which are forgotten.
What a great exhibiting way is the word!
It detains remembrances,
It helps me be saved from the dragon of the oblivion.
But how sad!
Even if I try to conserve my dead feeling in the formalin of my writings ,
I won't be worthy of your hand anymore.
You do not want to let me hold it anymore...
COPYRIGHT2012 BY CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU





IN THE UNIVERSITY


Well...
Tedium.
Exhausted.

Slur over it.
What intrigues me?
I'm eager for that glance.
For the professor's split skirt.
For that vamp arrogant girl's smile.
For the massage on the colleague's neck.
For the smiling face tics of the scientist
Often I would like to start crying.
I'm amazed to connect with youth.
The bitter taste of the past.
The amnesia over death.
The vision for change.
I'm exhausted
That glance is
tedium's
end.
COPYRIGHT2012 BY CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU

WANDERING

PAINTING BY TIM WISTROM


I'm here,
I came here
for you.

But you, you 're missing,
stayed there
for you.

I wonder did we ever really met?



copyright2012 by Chryssa Velissariou





YOU BACK



The phenomenon
of Supernova
made me reconsider...
A sun shines the most
just before its Death...
I am riding wild. 
Nothing could  ease me. 
I have got everything 
except One thing. 
This is driving me mad. 
I would never let myself 
have You back ...