Δευτέρα, 11 Δεκεμβρίου 2017

ΧΟΡΧΕ ΡΟΧΑΣ!




JORGE ROJAS  (1911-1995)


VIDA

Vivir como una isla,
lleno por todas partes
de ti, que me rodeas
ya presente o distante

con un temblor de luz
primera, sin pulir,
sin arista de tarde,
ni sombra de jardín.

Y ángeles en espejos
guardando tu mirada
para hacerse verdades
y noches estrelladas.


ΒΙΚΤΩΡ ΣΕΓΚΑΛΕΝ!




VICTOR SEGALEN


VISAGE DANS LES YEUX

Puisant je ne sais quoi ; au fond de ses yeux jetant le panier
tressé de mon désir, je n’ai pas obtenu le jappement de l’eau
pure et profonde.

Main sur main, pesant la corde écailleuse, me déchirant les
paumes, je n’ai levé pas même une goutte de l’eau pure et
profonde :

Ou que le panier fut lâchement tressé, ou la corde brève ; ou
s’il n’y avait rien au fond.

*

Inabreuvé, toujours penché, j’ai vu, oh ! soudain, un visage :
monstrueux comme chien de Fô au mufle rond aux yeux de boules.

Inabreuvé, je m’en suis allé ; sans colère ni rancune, mais
anxieux de savoir d’où vient la fausse image et le mensonge :

De ses yeux ? – Des miens ?

ΕΥΟΙΩΝΑ ΕΥΟΙΩΝΑ




ΓΙΑΝΝΗΣ ΡΙΤΣΟΣ


[ΕΥΟΙΩΝΑ ΕΥΟΙΩΝΑ]

Ευοίωνα ευοίωνα
τα σκοτεινά πουλιά
βγαίνοντας
απ’ τις τρύπες της λέξης.

               Κάλαμος, 29.Ι.78



Από την ποιητική συλλογή: Πηλός (1978).
Από το βιβλίο: Γιάννης Ρίτσος, «Ποιήματα», τ. ΙΔ΄, Κέδρος, Αθήνα 2007, σελ. 97.

Κυριακή, 10 Δεκεμβρίου 2017

ΦΙΛΙΠ ΛΑΡΚΙΝ!




PHILIP LARKIN


LOVE SONGS IN AGE

She kept her songs, they kept so little space,
The covers pleased her:
One bleached from lying in a sunny place,
One marked in circles by a vase of water,
One mended, when a tidy fit had seized her,
And coloured, by her daughter -
So they had waited, till, in widowhood
She found them, looking for something else, and stood

Relearning how each frank submissive chord
Had ushered in
Word after sprawling hyphenated word,
And the unfailing sense of being young
Spread out like a spring-woken tree, wherein
That hidden freshness sung,
That certainty of time laid up in store
As when she played them first. But, even more,

The glare of that much-mentionned brilliance, love,
Broke out, to show
Its bright incipience sailing above,
Still promising to solve, and satisfy,
And set unchangeably in order. So
To pile them back, to cry,
Was hard, without lamely admitting how
It had not done so then, and could not now.

ΠΑΖΟΛΙΝΙ!




PIER PAOLO PASOLINI


L’INTELLIGENZA NON AVRÀ MAI PESO

L’intelligenza non avrà mai peso, mai
nel giudizio di questa pubblica opinione.
Neppure sul sangue dei lager, tu otterrai

da uno dei milioni d’anime della nostra nazione,
un giudizio netto, interamente indignato:
irreale è ogni idea, irreale ogni passione,

di questo popolo ormai dissociato
da secoli, la cui soave saggezza
gli serve a vivere, non l’ha mai liberato.

Mostrare la mia faccia, la mia magrezza –
alzare la mia sola puerile voce –
non ha più senso: la viltà avvezza

a vedere morire nel modo più atroce
gli altri, nella più strana indifferenza.
Io muoio, ed anche questo mi nuoce.