“I gave you as much as I could…
I thought we were together!
It seems, it was not for ever!
I still love you… and hope…
Not certain about your moves
I pleat with you…
Do not leave me…”
I loved you too…
I cannot bargain with my feelings…
I treasured the moments of our love…
But I cannot forgive your arrogance
that make you forget who I am!
Love is elegant as a flower…
I need peace and safety… along
with your -so called- love!
Copyright: (Πιπίνα Δ.Έλλη) Pipina D. Elles
Pipina D. Ellis
The twin power
of our souls,
our faith to Zoe…
are charging us!
Let us try to overcome
our human deficiency,
and become free,
the heavy earthy shirt
to rejoice freedom,
of our destiny,
by the twin sign
of Apollo and Dionysos-,
for the song of eternity.
The purifying fire that burns
within our hearts,
the cool water that nourishes
our roots… complete the circle
of our vows
for our well being.
cold head… warm feet,
do not always
draw out our best!
COPYRIGHT: Pipina D. Elles
VERSES from my book of selected poetry… QUO VADIS?
Ο ΑΜΛΕΤ ΤΗΣ ΣΕΛΗΝΗΣ – Ποίηση: Μάνος Ελευθερίου(+)
Μελοποίηση: Θάνος Μικρούτσικος (+)
HAMLET OF THE MOON (Th. Mikroutsikos-Man. Eleftheriou)
(Literary translation by: Aris Adanis- January 2020)
You fooled the azure skies above, and hexed them to black flame
since life has been a gift to you, without the least of charge,
the voices of a madding crowd, sounded all the same
with your drugged emotions that echoed falsely large.
As ever, again at this tide and time,
when a year sets in and a year flows hence-
As ever again the querulous rhyme
Of an ancient song fills my inner sense:
“Turn of the Year, turn of the year-
But does any turn in the road appear?”
When my years were fewer my hopes were stirred,
And vows I made (as you made them, too!)
Wiser to be in both deed and word,
The Old Year’s error to change in the New.
Yet I was but I – as the years flowed past,
And the ancient rhyme but mocked me, at last!
©Copyright Winter 2019 – Jan Price
You ask me
what I’ve discovered
as I gauge your will to suffer
by the length of the pause I pose
between us. If you hold my eyes
and don’t smile but slightly frown
where sad news frowns
I won’t need to prophesy
for your search has began
The idea of homeland is a cruel joke;
crueller even than the idea of Paradise
When you are driving on ehte roads of our occupied villages and towns
Bogazi, Koma Tou Yialou, Trikomo, the pain is profound
Last night I took a picture of my mother
Standing next to the statue of Grigoris Afxentiou.
‘Stand there so I can take a picture of you, too’, she whispered
I never stand next to statues to be photographed
Yet for some reason, I obeyed without refusing,
Intuitively I leaned my head tenderly on the statue; hugged it.