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Yiannis Ritsos - Επιστολή στον Πάμπλο Νερούδα ( Γ versuri traducere în engleză


English Align paragraphs


Letter to Pablo Neruda (Part 3)

Pablo,
 
look to the inner wall of Greece
above the fireplace-
a cartridge belt of stars
between two braids of garlics and onions
above the loom, the double-barrelled gun, the fiddle and the moldboard.
 
..........................
This wild summer with its sporty undershirt
with its cotton pants stained by ejaculations and dreams
has its ring hidden in the crickets' corner.
The road with the five trees opens to the sea.
 
Here is the land of poetry, Pablo. It's waiting for you.
Above the graves it lights up the lamps of its oranges.
Here it smells of damp oregano and charred goat hair.
Here in Psilalonia they get to dancing and put the Gream Reaper as the mark.
 
A wall falls over. And another. And another.
The space inside is freed. Naked sky.
Deep serenity like the birth of trees.
 
Come on Pablo.
Lying on the grass one night we'll smoke the starlight
At a beach in Samos waiting for us is a small green table, two chairs,
a jug of ouzo, octopus grilled over coal
a song from the boats with the sound of homeric oars,
large pages of lime to scratch our verses on.
The red and golden Virgin Mary of the grapes and wheats
olive fields carrying the punnets of ancient patience on their shoulders,
apricot trees shading light onto our papers with their blossoms,
monasteries of silence behind the bars of stars,
the powerful gleam of the river where Hera would wash her hair,
cypresses showing what we have to say.
They're all looking for us.
 
The villagers spoil their trees
they calm their worries at the olive tree's blossom
they stalk the rain, the wind, the frost, the heat.
The earth's secrets are cut lump by lump.
The first assurance starts with justice.
It never ends, that bitter joy that fights for the joy of the world.
 
...
 
Small shops in the autumn drizzle
a cart in the mad- the driver asleep
the scratched mirror of the small barbershop
showing a bit of the neighbourhood's scratched face
the shadow of the dusk's thorns on the window glasses
that guy with the newspaper who went and stood by the traffic light
the Agamemnon of the sunset with 23 wounds drowned in his red light
out of tune lights under the peppers
dusted bottles on the shelves
the twelve fishermen passed by the lower road without nets
a mother leaned her bundle against the stairs-
 
It's raining
raining an oblivion of children's harmonicas
raining little unrelated stories
bitter words that went off-center.
Give them their canter and their mark. The fairytale goes off road without losing its truth. Nothing is under our eyes. A scream
like a hand that was lit by the headlight of the last bus.
Pablo,
save the sand, its shadow, its voice. Point at what it's pointing.
 
....
 
Yes Pablo,
we came into the world to sing
and so the others would sing along with us.
 
The aspen leaf is green on one side, silver on the other.
If we don't see it the world will get poorer. It's odd
nothing mismatched and foreign in the poem. This corner of the eyes
shines over the health. Cheers.
 
Our chat stops here.
Our chat was going on way before it had started,
Our chat goes on wherever it ends.
 
Goodbye my brother with the dark eyes that chase away the darkness.
We will be meeting every moment in the world.
 
I adorned this poem with your verses
the way we adorn a room facing the sun with pictures of the sea
the way the faith in democracy adorns our heart day and night.
 
Goodbye my brother.
We came into the world to sing
and so the others would sing along with us.
 


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01.02.2025

Doctor Faust





Oh, Doctor Faust
Behind you, do you see all these years you've spent wasting your life?
It's time for you to let yourself live life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Diving like this into dead languages, that's not life
If you spend time with them, living languages will revive you
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Science is a well where you drown yourself, if you want my opinion
Descend into the well of pleasure because that's life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Leave your Talmudic and astrologic studies behind
Instead, prepare a thesis on my anatomy
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Throw your books away, forget Latin, smile at live
In my arms, you'll get to know love and life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
 


01.02.2025

On board of the Aspasia





You traveled in pursuit of your destiny
To white but mournful Switzerland
Always in the deck in a chez-lung downstairs
by the familiar and saddest cause
 

Always restlessly your folks have been prowling around
But you, staring at the wings, were indifferent
You laughed bitterly at what they said because you felt
That you were travelling to the land of death
 

One night when we were passing through Stroboli
You said to some laughing man in a joking tone:
'How my sick body looks as it burns,
to the flaming top of the volcano!'
 

Then I saw you in Marcilia as you were lost
in the noise without turning back
And I who loved only the wet expanse,
I say I could love thee
 


01.02.2025

Gramophonomaniac





In room of miss Janka
winders and curtains tremble
Like in a fury there a gramophone plays
Because miss Janka is a gramophone maniac
From morning to morning constantly plays.
Syrena’s records are still brought by miss Janka,
She puts all of her money in it and continues to sing
 

And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
 

Neighbours of miss Janka, their wives and lovers declared, not being able to sleep at night:
We have enough of miss Janka,
that gramophone maniac,
the police needs to know about it
But when the officer came, miss Janka says
What to do, man, understand I’m afraid to sleep alone
 

And when I play on the gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me then I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have all of my concerns
 

As soon as the strict officer heard it himself and wanted to give advice to the poor maiden
He says to miss Janka, that gramophone maniac
„A pity, I will sleep here”
And since then every night from miss Janka’s room
The bas of officer makes the curtains tremble
 

And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
 


singable
01.02.2025

At the End of the Park





When sunset
makes the sky grow pale,
from the window,
I look around me.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me,
of course,
I know it.
 

It's only an impression,
a trick of my heart
that makes me see
all this.
 

Tenderness
is something that
grows deep
in the soul.
 

If I remember
and if only
I think about you:
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me
and this time,
I know it.
 

You're no longer an impression,
a trick of my heart,
I've found
you again.
 

(At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.)
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me...