TORNADO

I do not hope
today
I do not hope
today
Perhaps one day
I will
I see no dream
at all
in young people's eyes
Is there
worst deception
than this?
A place without
future
is the place where
children
forgot their wings
No doubt
Please youngsters save
the field
of our defeat!
Death wins when Life
neglects
its marching beat!
You still can be
winners!
Let no vampire
consume
you as living meat
Did they
persuade you that
ever
blooming retreats?
The spring
is coming, don't
be weak!
Love life and fight
again
It's now your treat!

O' MY CAPTAIN!

Siren by EmileNoordeloos.

•  I'm so puzzled amongst enormous waves
• It could be never safe for my ship
• O' captain are you ready to sink?
• You 'd be the last to abandon this trip
• 
  
• My heart belongs to that thrilling land
• Where heroes lived and my seedlings grow
• Who could such a big sorrow withstand
• Leaving dream behind his life to throw
• 
  
• In depths I'll sing my crying music
• To some mermaids my story I'll recite
• I did not know the tornado's trics
• Would make me lose the return of sight
• 
  
• I loved you my troubled sea a lot
• You loved me so you kept me for good
• The shade I'll be next to my ship's dot
• I'll wander around the wet bottom's woods

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!

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.

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.

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.

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

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