Καλώς ήλθατε!

Καλώς ήλθατε!

Saturday, 10 November 2012

FOR SOMEONE GREAT

Frida Kahlo Thinking about Death Painting

What am l
doing now?

I could not 
hurt anyone! 
This made the worst 
bastard of me...
In front of
such a grateness
I feel weak though.
How could I 
ever fill the gap?
How could I ever
meet the sun

without being burnt?
I don't know
what is going
to be but
sometimes
just a laughing
makes things look
so easy!
The logic though
is still hanging

out there...


RECREATION

Images-Painting BY Sunanda & Puneet.jpg
Sometimes I wish to stop thinking
to take deep breath and watch my
living from some distance
away; as if I
was someone else.
Who am I?
I look
strange...
Where are  hiding people I loved?
What's left from every single one
of thrilling emotions?
Why Eros is dying?
I know nothing
about it.
I just
wait...
Look at me! Tell me,
what do you see?
I' m a troubled
type of
trouble...
Look in me! Feel my
awful sorrow.
Who needs me
to heal
his?
I'm so dangerous
sharing my cross...
Keep away!
I'm a
trap!
My smile,illusion
Hiding my strong
Loneliness
none could
bear.
I'm so tired I could
Sleep for ever.
Is this kind
Of death?
Live!





Thursday, 8 November 2012

THE DEFEAT


I'm riding  on a wild horse.
You won, what was the gain;
All around me the betraying is sizzling!
I doubt if you are amongst the traitors,
are you?
You could have kill me.
You were holding the spear.
Let it sink into my chest
my black blood to come out!
I'm just an already dead vampire
I'm not living long ago.
You looked at me silently though,
completely armored.
I didn't see even your eyes,
I just guessed .
You balanced your strength.
You did see you are the master of the game,
didn't you? Everybody saw...
You turned your back and you went away.
Away!
If I were you,
with all my love,
I would kill you!
You let me live,
and, worst of all, hope.
I wish , one day,
to hate you for this.

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD.


You remind me of a turtle.
whenever I get close
you crawl back in  shell.
Do not be afraid!
I will stay
no more
now.
I just liked your company.
Nothing more intense than
eating with you leaves
in garden
side by
side.
Pity, without my shell you
did not  recognize me!
I 'm also a turtle. I
defend myself
only with
writing ...
Bye!

http://www.whitewolfpack.com/2011/09/turtle-medicine-what-turtle-can-teach.html






DEAD

HELGA ANCHER PAINTING DAFFODILS, Michael-Peter Ancher 1849-1927
When something 's died,
it is not the fact 
of its death
It was to die
or now it's dead
anyway anymore
nothing more can be done,
no turning back.
Only that is,
exactly that
the lack,
the lost,
the "finished"
it will not come back,
it will not happen again,
a stabbing,
that kneels you
in the night, 
when you cry.
The living dream
which becomes 
nightmare
when you're awake.
The bitter claims
of memories.
The sigh
of the unfulfilled.
My dead star,
you will not 
brighten me again.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

AM I MAD?



Ballet by Robert Heindel 1938-2005  American painter
What is madness
more than
an absence?
A vacuum, an obsession
a revolution?
And I, who I am mad 
to be devoted to
whatever I do not have,
whatever  I can not experience,
whatever I'm passionate about,
idealising the paradox
which I search,
without  getting it,
only because once 
I was hung on it,
when I tasted it
and I dreamed about it,
and I fell in love with it;
how much life do I earn
and how much I miss,
since I manage to live
in my favorite vision?
What is life
if not a dream?
I surrender
to my internal worship
for as long as I can stand it.
I offer myself to others,
but it is worth to live
only for my personal visions.

When you will leave,
if you go away before me,
I will come with you.
Without you ,
the dream collapses.
Nothing is born
authentic.
In my world,
the world of the madness,
this is equivalent 
to death.
I'll hide it from you.
So you will not be scared.
I have nothing 
furthermore
to lose.
Apart from a
torturing
despair.

Monday, 5 November 2012

Ο ΑΛΕΞΑΝΔΡΟΣ ΣΤΙΣ ΘΗΒΕΣ, ΑΝΝΑ ΑΧΜΑΤΟΒΑ (1961)

anna-akhmatova-1911-artist-Amedeo-Modgliani
Υποθέτω ότι, ο βασιλιάς ήτανε σκληρός, παρότι νέος,
όταν ο ίδιος διάταξε, «Θα ισοπεδώσετε τις Θήβες ."
Και ο παλαίμαχος ο λοχαγός θωρούσε αυτή την πόλη την περίφημη,
είχε ζήσει εδώ τις εποχές που σε έπη την τραγούδησαν.
Κάψτε τα όλα ! Ο βασιλιάς τα βάζει όλα στη λίστα
πύργους,  πύλες,  ναούς -αχ, όλα πλούσια και ακμάζοντα ...
Μα ύστερα βυθίστηκε σε σκέψεις, και είπε με αναμμένο πρόσωπο,
"Θα φροντίσετε να μη πειράξετε μονάχα το Τσαρδί του Βάρδου."

ΜΕΤΑΦΡΑΣΗ ΣΤΑ ΕΛΛΗΝΙΚΑ ΑΠΟ ΤΑ ΑΓΓΛΙΚΑ ΧΡΥΣΑ ΒΕΛΗΣΣΑΡΙΟΥ
http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/akhmatova/alexander_by_thebes.html

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Η ΑΠΑΝΤΗΣΗ, ΑΝΝΑ ΑΧΜΑΤΟΒΑ

ΑΝΝΑ ΑΧΜΑΤΟΒΑ 
ΓΙΑ ΤΟΝ V. A. Komarovsky 1914

Ω, τι αυτές οι μπερδεμένες λέξεις σου
τις τελευταίες  μέρες τ' Απρίλη εδώ μου φέραν .

Το ήξερες πως η καρδιά κι οι σκέψεις μου,
έρμες, Μεγάλη Εβδομάδα του φόβου, παραδέρναν .

Δεν άκουγα τα καμπανάκια του χαμού,
που μοιρολόγια τραγουδούν στο γαλανό ποτάμι,
Μα μόνο –εφτά μέρες– άκουγα το γέλιο του χαλκού
ή μήπως έκλαιγε, σαν να κελάριζε λιωμένο ασήμι. 

Και, δυστυχώς, αν και να μη φανεί στο πρόσωπό μου προσπαθώ,
όπως και πριν από το μοιραίο μας χωρισμό,
τον περιμένω πάντα αδυσώπητα σκληρό
αυτόν τον πόνο, το μαρτυρικό, απ΄το δικό σου το σταυρό.


ΜΕΤΑΦΡΑΣΗ ΣΤΑ ΕΛΛΗΝΙΚΑ ΑΠΟ ΤΑ ΑΓΓΛΙΚΑ ΑΠΟ ΤΗ ΧΡΥΣΑ ΒΕΛΗΣΣΑΡΙΟΥ
http://www.poetryloverspage.com/yevgeny/akhmatova/answer.html

Saturday, 3 November 2012

LOVING IMAGES

Love-Anyone  Nancy Denommee

Eventually love
nowadays ended 
by becoming an apathetic 
food of the imagination ...
Kind of self-satisfaction
enriched profusely
by a lot of pictures
And even more
a conscious
sickening perversion


You imagined  me,
the way you wanted me
I imagined you
the way I wanted you
And we stood
inaccessible
each one on his own
tower looking  the shade
of his beloved
opposite him


But who did we really love?
Did we love the one another
or just ourselves?
I shout with a megaphone:
What are you doing away from me?
Speak! Say what you feel!
And you just turn your 
back and you go away...


Apparently you 
were truly in love
but not with me.
Perhaps with the image
on the screen. That one
there's no need 
to face it afterwards.
It's so obvious, since
you washed your hands
and you stated allegedly
you've always been a coward ...
Piece of cake! Smart!
You can also fool 
yourself this way ...

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!!!