WORLD POETRY DAY
Αlthough poetry should generally be left without comments and without distortions, on this day, the World Poetry Day, I found and herewith quote a poem by Elytis, for which I can only make my small comment on the confirmation, through this poem, of the relationship between the Nobel Laureate poet and his compatriot, the ancient and world pioneer lyric poet, Sappho.
The following is a draft translation into English, only for the purposes of this post.
"Of the Moon of Mytilini" by Odysseas Elytis, 1980
Old and new ode
So I embrace my misery - I know:
Only to Thee will I tell it, my old sea moon.
There were on my island some women who if I am not mistaken.
A thousand years ago Sappho secretly
She brought you into the garden of our old house
And I could hear the pebbles in the water
That your name is Selana and that you hold
And play the mirror of sleep.
How on my back I remember coming out of July
I'd watch you come down where the hubbub shone
And flies over the rotting leaves
Myriads of myriads you were glowing! How sweet it all was! And deep
The noise of the wheel in the night...
Or times when you brought me the owl
To my lonely chamber
Lifting shadows from the furniture
To frighten me. But what was dead I did not know
What does Weather and Opacity mean
What the white of the Virgin Mary on the waters
The great hieroglyphics on your face
Love and death - well, I didn't know...
And I was so sad! Only it was night
Only the leaves were dripping only inexplicably
I had gone down to Mother
Her echoing depths the depthless
And the black piece that was distracting
From within me and into the well
And the dirt that crushed beneath my tread
Like a peacock swelling the rosemary
Only they hungered only they pressed my breast
I could feel tears welling up.
Away to the silver-roofed houses
The other children were lifted by the voice
Their voices were lifted by their harmonica
Alone on the stairs I cried like a persecuted man
And I begged you: take me, take me in your arms
And comfort me where I was born!
Not that I was unlucky - I mean
That the years upon me did not take hold like water
And my words in the light leaping
Like fishes longing to reach
Through the other sky - But where no one
To read no one knew heaven
My old sea moon, my old sea moon, I'll only tell it to you
For you have made me miserable - and I know:
My old home I still inhabit
And in the same creaks, I'm frightened
And the nights are still coming out in July
Wrapped in your black greenery I talk too much
Gone are gone, gone are the people
In the deep hidden cypresses
In slow shuddering the tide that the Night
Through the leaves is always drawing sparks
But where's the joy? Where is the new life?
But I witnessed when on the third height
One by one the air's lilies awoke
And half of me stayed out of Time
The valley that Death hid
To face again. The rotting Zodiac around me.
So far away on earth. The flow of the sea
And evil eyes in the smoke of the gardens. But what
The poet with his empty lips
Ever behind his grief: the Unspeakable.
Take me, take me in your arms
And comfort me where I was born.
That so light to the brow the touch was
So blah the flowers. So dripping
Of the eyes
Nice after happiness was gone
Away in the sea dawn
The kiss I held while my star was breaking
The slope of August so pure
So bitter in my skirt the peace
So black and small the people
With the foot forward that always goes on
All straight for Cocytus and Pyriphlegethon.
Because... this day deserves a PO.CRA.N. "POetic CRAck in the Normality"!!!