Amorgos, Parts 2 & 3

2

They say the mountains tremble and the pines rage

when night bites off the pins of the roof tiles so the kalikantzari

        can get in

when the underworld sucks in the frothing scum of the torrents

or when the hairline on the pepper tree is hammered by the north wind

Only, the bullocks of the Achaians in the lush meadows of Thessaly

pasture lustily, with the incessant sun glaring down

eat green grass poplar leaves wild celery, drink clear water

       from the channels

smell of the sweat of the earth and afterwards fall deep asleep

      in the shade of the willows.

throw out your dead, said Heraclitus and he saw the sky turn pale

he saw in the mud two small cyclamen kissing

and he fell down to kiss his own dead body in the welcoming earth

just as the wolf comes down out of the oaks to see the dead dog

      and to howl

What does it matter, the drop that shines on your forehead?

I know the thunder wrote its name on your lips

I know an eagle built its eyrie in your eyes

but here on this marshy bank there is one road only

only one treacherous road and you must cross it

you must soak in blood before time catches up with you

and you must cross to the other side to see your companions again

flowers birds deer

to find another sea another kindness

to grasp Achilles' horses by their reins

instead of sitting mutely blaming the river

like Kitsos' mother when she stoned the river

because you will have become lost and your beauty grown old.

In the branches of a willow I see drying a shirt you wore as a child

take the flag of life to shroud death

let your heart not give way

let not your tear be lost on the unyielding earth

as the tear of the penguin was lost in the icy wastes

Lamentation is worthless

Life everywhere will be the same with the flute of snakes in the land

        of phantoms

with the song of thieves in the spice trees

with the knife of desire in the face of hope

with the sadness of spring in the leafy heart of an owl

It is enough if a plow is found, a keen sickle in a cheerful hand

it is enough if a only little wheat ripens

a little wheat for the holiday a little wine for remembrance a little water

        for the dust . . .

3.

In the yard of the embittered the sun does not rise

only worms come up to taunt the stars

only horses sprout on ant hills

and the bats eat birds and piss seed

In the yard of the embittered the night does not fade

only the leaves throw up a river of tears

when the devil slips in to ride the dogs

and the black birds swim in a well of blood

In the yard of the embittered the eye has run dry

the brain has frozen and the heart has turned to stone

the flesh of frogs hangs in the spider's teeth

the unfed locusts scream at the vampire's feed

In the yard of the embittered the grass grows dark

only one evening in May a wind breaks in

a light step like the skipping of the field

a kiss from the white crests of the sea.

If you are thirsty for water we will wring out a cloud

and if you are hungry for bread we will butcher a nightingale

only the bitter herb waits a moment to open

the dark sky to lighten the mullein to flower

Yet it was a wind that fled a lark that was lost

it was the face of May the pale face of the moon

a light step like skipping in a the field

a kiss from the white crests of the sea. 

Trans, DGW.

For the complete Amorgos with the Greek: http://www.nauplion.net/Gatsos-AMORGOS.pdf

The splintered islands of wild cherry and of seal

                             by Nikos Gatsos

ELEGY (1946)

God will have smiled at the fire in your eyes

Spring will have closed its heart like a pearl

from an ancient shore

Now, luminous in your sleep

in the frozen fields where the grapevines

become embalmed wings marble doves

dumb children of anticipation –

I wished you would come some evening covered in cloud

mist from stone frost from olive

because on your chaste brow

sometimes I would see

the snow of sheep and of lilies

But you passed from life like a tear of the sea

like summer lights and the last rains of May

though once you were one of its geranium waves

one of its sharp pebbles

one of its small swallows in a pathless wood

without dawn bells without lamps at dusk

with your passionate heart turned toward the unknown

to the shattered tusks of another shore

to the splintered islands of wild cherry and of seal

TAKE YOUR RING (1994) *

In memory of Maria Nomikou

God will have smiled at the fire in your eyes

Spring will have closed its heart like a pearl

        from an ancient shore

Now, luminous in your sleep

on the sands of the stars, you are a sharp pebble

in the embrace of Kelaino and Maia

Take your ring

Take the silver of the meadows to tint your face

Come to me to sleep

to sink perpetually into an springtime sea

Some summer night when I turn toward your eyes

lost on the shores of some pale galaxy

come like the sun of April in the window of my dream

with the ribbon round your throat

to greet the cranes that travel toward the unknown

to close up a rose just like doves sing a child to sleep

under the leaves of the grapevines on the banks of the

Aspropotamo

in the embrace of the platan trees by a cave of the Eurotas

Life was for you like a tear of the sea

like a fire in summer and a scarf in May

just so, you were one of its geranium waves

one of its sharp pebbles

one of its small swallows wandering in the woods

without fire for the dawn without stars for spring

with your hot heart turned toward the unknown

to the shattered tusks of another shore

to the dead children of wild cherry and seal  

* Draft for Elegy published after Gatsos' death in 1992.   

Translation, DW, 2006.

The Knight and Death

                                              THE KNIGHT AND DEATH (1513)

                                                   by Nikos Gatsos

Just so, I see you motionless

travelling down the ages with the horse of Akritas

and the sword of Ai-Georgi

I would place beside you

with the dark shapes that stand eternally beside you

until the place where you are extinguished eternally with them

until you become a fire in the great Chance where you were born

I would place beside you

an orange from the snow-covered fields of the moon

I would unfold for you the veil of an evening

with red Antares singing the young men

with the River of Sky overflowing into August

to weep with the North Star and freeze

I would place beside you meadows

waters that never watered the lilies of Germany

and I would ornament this iron you wear

with a sprig of basil and a handful of mint

with the arms of Plapoutas and the sword of Nikitaras

And then I who saw your descendants like birds

split open on a spring day the sky of my country

saw the cypress trees of the Morea stop breathing

there on the fields of Nauplion

before the waiting embrace of the wounded sea

where the eons wrestled with the crosses of gallantry

I would place beside you

the bitter eyes of a youth

and the closed eyelids

in the mud and blood of Holland.

This dark land

will someday become green again

The iron hand of Götz will overturn the caissons

and mound them with sheaves of barley and rye

And in the dark oaks with the dead loves

there where time turned a virgin leaf to stone

on the breasts where a tear-stained rose trembled

a star will shine silent as a spring daisy

But you will remain motionless

with the horse of Akritas and the lance of Ai-Georgi you will travel

through the years

a restless hunter from the race of heroes

with those dark shapes that stand eternally beside you

until a day when you will vanish eternally with them

until you become again a fire in the great Chance where you were born

until in the caves of the river

the heavy hammers of patience resound again

not for ornaments and swords

but for pruning hooks and plows.

Trans, DW.

Amorgos, Part 6

Nikos Gatsos

 

6

How much I loved you only I know

I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades

and covered you with the mane of the moon and we danced in the

summer fields

on the stubble and we ate together the mown clover

the great dark sea with so many pebbles around your throat so many

colored stones in your hair.

A boat comes into shore a rusted windlass creaks

a column of blue smoke in the rose of the horizon

like the lacerating wing of the crane

armies of swallows wait to welcome the brave

bare arms with anchors tattooed on their shoulders wave

the cries of children jumble with the babbling of the west wind

bees fly in and out about the nostrils of the herds

Kalamatan silks flutter

and a distant bell streaks the sky indigo

like the voice of a simandron travelling through the stars

So many eons fled

from the soul of the Goths from the domes of Baltimore

from the great monastery of lost Agia Sophia.

But on the high mountains who are those who watch

with motionless eye and serene face?

That dust in the air the echo of what burning?

Isn't it Kalyvas fighting, or Leventoyannis?

Perhaps the Germans have attacked the Maniotes, unarmed?

Neither Kalyvas fights nor Leventoyannis,

Nor have the Germans attacked the Maniotes, unarmed.

Silent towers are watching a haunted princess

peaks of cypresses companion a dead anemone

quiet shepherds play their morning songs on a linden flute

a mindless hunter fires a musket at doves

and an old forgotten windmill

with a needle of dolphin sews its disintegrating sails

and with a fair northwest wind comes down the slopes

as Adonis came down the path to say a "Good evening!" to Golfo.

Year after year I wrestled with ink and mallet my tormented heart

with gold and fire to make you an embroidery

a hyacinth from the orange tree

a flowering quince to comfort you

I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades

and covered you with the mane of the moon and we danced in the

summer fields

on the stubble and we ate together the mown clover

great dark loneliness with so many pebbles around your throat so many

colored stones in your hair.

Trans. DGW.   
For the complete Amorgos, and the Greek text.