Yannis Ritsos
Life? — a wound in non-existence.
July 27, 1968
Partheni concentration camp
from Stones [Collected Poems:I ]
Monday, November 10, 2008
Night
Yannis Ritsos
Tall eucalyptus trees and a wide moon.
A star shimmers on the water.
The heavens white, silver.
Stones, ravaged stones, all the way up.
Nearby, in the shallows, a fish
is heard jumping, a second, a third . . .
Grand, ecstatic orphanage — freedom.
October 21, 1968
Partheni concentration camp
from Stones [Collected Poems:I ]
Tall eucalyptus trees and a wide moon.
A star shimmers on the water.
The heavens white, silver.
Stones, ravaged stones, all the way up.
Nearby, in the shallows, a fish
is heard jumping, a second, a third . . .
Grand, ecstatic orphanage — freedom.
October 21, 1968
Partheni concentration camp
from Stones [Collected Poems:I ]
Epilogue
Yannis Ritsos
Don't forget me—he said. I walked thousands of miles
without bread, without water, over stones and thorns,
because I wanted you to have bread, water, even roses. Beauty,
I never have forsaken it. My whole life I doled it out.
I even gave away my own portion. Utterly poor. With a small field lily
I lit our way through the wildest night. Remember me.
And please forgive this final sorrow: how I wish
to harvest one more ripe ear of corn using the thin
sickle of the moon. How I wish to stand at the threshold and look out
and chew on the wheat, grain-by-grain, with my front teeth
marveling at and blessing this world that I am leaving,
marveling at The One climbing the hill through the golden last light. Look:
on his good sleeve there is a purple patch—though barely
visible. How I wish more than anything to show you this.
And perhaps for this alone I'll deserve to be remembered.
July 30, 1987
Karlovasi
This translation was first published in Luna: a journal of poetry and translation (vol 8)
from Negatives of Silence (1987) [Αργα, Πολυ Αργα Μεσα Στη Νυχτα ---pg 93-94]
Don't forget me—he said. I walked thousands of miles
without bread, without water, over stones and thorns,
because I wanted you to have bread, water, even roses. Beauty,
I never have forsaken it. My whole life I doled it out.
I even gave away my own portion. Utterly poor. With a small field lily
I lit our way through the wildest night. Remember me.
And please forgive this final sorrow: how I wish
to harvest one more ripe ear of corn using the thin
sickle of the moon. How I wish to stand at the threshold and look out
and chew on the wheat, grain-by-grain, with my front teeth
marveling at and blessing this world that I am leaving,
marveling at The One climbing the hill through the golden last light. Look:
on his good sleeve there is a purple patch—though barely
visible. How I wish more than anything to show you this.
And perhaps for this alone I'll deserve to be remembered.
July 30, 1987
Karlovasi
This translation was first published in Luna: a journal of poetry and translation (vol 8)
from Negatives of Silence (1987) [Αργα, Πολυ Αργα Μεσα Στη Νυχτα ---pg 93-94]
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Lots: 10
Yannis Ritsos
10.
The church's clock
the whitewashed houses
so many many leaves
innumerable
even inside the inexplicable
and on the chair in the garden.
from Lots (1977) [Collected Poems: IGamma ---pg 270]
10.
The church's clock
the whitewashed houses
so many many leaves
innumerable
even inside the inexplicable
and on the chair in the garden.
from Lots (1977) [Collected Poems: IGamma ---pg 270]
Monday, October 20, 2008
Lots: 9
Yannis Ritsos
9.
The tree walks by
limping
from the leaves that fell
from the birds that left
from the rope
without the horse.
from Lots (1977) [Collected Poems: IGamma ---pg 270]
9.
The tree walks by
limping
from the leaves that fell
from the birds that left
from the rope
without the horse.
from Lots (1977) [Collected Poems: IGamma ---pg 270]
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Lots: 8
Yannis Ritsos
8.
Stones and words
words and stones
stones.
from Lots (1977) [Collected Poems: IGamma ---pg 269]
8.
Stones and words
words and stones
stones.
from Lots (1977) [Collected Poems: IGamma ---pg 269]
Lots: 7
Yannis Ritsos
7.
The ship departed
the whistle remained
in the room all night
on the white sheets
completely naked
after love making.
from Lots (1977) [Collected Poems: IGamma ---pg 269]
7.
The ship departed
the whistle remained
in the room all night
on the white sheets
completely naked
after love making.
from Lots (1977) [Collected Poems: IGamma ---pg 269]
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