The CHARIOTEER

An Annual Review of Modern Greek Culture

NUMBER 36
1995-1996
SPECIAL DOUBLE ISSUE

NIKOS GATSOS
AMORGOS AND OTHER POEMS
ram~~a

by Marjorie Chambers, David Connolly

C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Kafka

/J

Selected Songs from

BR~ZE BLOW ME, DON'T ABATE UNTIL
Translated by C. Capri-Karka, David Connolly
Ilona Karka, George Pilitsis and Margaret Polis

A SELECTION OF ESSAYS ON NIKOS GATSOS

By E. Aranitsis, A. Argyriou, 0. Elytis, D. Karamvalis
A. Karandonis, K. Koun and T. Lignadis
Translated by Apostolos Athanassakis, C. Capri-Karka
David Connolly, Myrto Kapri, Ilona Karka and Margaret Polis

LEND SILKEN THREADS TO THE WIND

Posthumously published poems
Introduced by Eugene Aranitsis
Translated by Marjorie Chambers

$15.00

THE CHARIOTEER
AN ANNUAL REVIEW OF MODERN GREEK CULTURE
Formerly published by P ARNASSOS Greek Cultural Society of New York
NuMBER

1995-1996

36

Publisher:
LEANDROS PAPATHANASIOU

Editor:

c.

CAPRI-KARKA

Art Editor:
JANICE ROONEY

The CHARIOTEER is published by PELLA PUBLISHING COMPANY,

INC. Editorial and subscription address: Pella Publishing Company, Inc.,
337 West 36th Street, New York, NY 10018-6401. Tel.: 212-279-9586,
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stamped self-addressed envelope. No responsibility can be assumed for
theft, loss or damage.
ISBN 0-933824-20-3

ISSN 0577-5574

TABLE OF CONTENTS
EDITORIAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

BY C. CAPRI-KARKA

POEMS BY NIKOS GATSOS

AMORGOS ............ ............ ............ ....
translated by

29

MARJORIE CHAMBERS

ELEGY ............ ............ ............ ........

53

DEATH AND THE KNIGHT (1513) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

55

translated by DAVID CONNOLLY

translated by C.

CAPRI-KARKA

SONG OF OLD TIMES ............ ............ . : . . .

translated by C.

59

CAPRI-K.ARKA AND ILONA KAR.KA

Selected Songs from BLOW BREEZE BLOW ME,

DON'T ABATE UNTIL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

63

translated by C.

CAPRI-K.ARKA, DAVID CONNOLLY,

ILONA K.ARKA, GEORGE PILITSIS AND MARGARET POLIS

The Myrtle Tree . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A Holy Virgin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Train's Left . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Song of Kalymnos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Siren's Song . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Paper Moon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
One Sunday in March . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Dreams of Smoke . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Love Deep in the Heart . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
En Sirio Hay Ninos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Four Young Men . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Madwoman of the Moon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

63
65
67

69
71
73
75
77
79
81
83
87

THE CHARIOTEER

Bring Me the Sea ............................

I Sprinkled You With Rosewater . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Make the Sun Your Boundary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Holy Mother of the Skies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Better Days for Us . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
You Were A Child Like Christ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
On the Lower Road . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Holy Friday .................................
The Time Has Come, The Time Has Come ..........
The Black Sun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Arena . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Anonymon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
We Who Have Remained . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Drunken Boat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Tsamikos ...................................
Melancholy March . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The North Star . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Persephone's Nightmare ........................
The Sibyl's Oracles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
On Bitterness' Barren Isles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Net ....................................
The Bus Station . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hail and Farewell Venice .......................
Rain Is Falling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Eleventh Commandment ....................
Give Me An Identity Card . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Behind Black Iron Bars . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
This Land . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A Language A Country . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The First and the Second . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Dance of the Dogs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Epilogue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Holy Monday ................................

89
91
93
95
97
99
101
103
105
107
109
111
113
115
119
121
123
125
127
129
131
133
137
139
141
145
147
149
151
153
155
159
161

Table of Contents
Holy Tuesday . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Holy Wednesday ................ .............
Holy Thursday . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Holy Friday ................ ................ .
Holy Saturday . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Gloria Aeterna . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mani Evensong . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

163
165
167
169
171
173
175

A SELECTION OF ESSAYS ON NIKOS GATSOS

A GREAT POEM (Only One) ................ ........ 178
BY

EUGENE ARANITSIS

translated by MARGARET POLIS

NIKOS GATSOS' AMORGOS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 182

BY

ALEXANDROS ARGYRIOU

Translated by C.

CAPRI-KARKA

NIKOS GATSOS AND SURREALISM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 188

BY

ALEXANDROS ARGYRIOU

translated by C.

CAPRI-KARKA

ONE-FINGER MELODIES FOR NIKOS GATSOS ...... 193

BY

ODYSSEUS ELYTIS

translated by DAVID CoNNOLLY

THE CASE OF NIKOS GATSOS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202

BY

DIMITRIS I. KARAMVALIS

translated by ILONA KARKA

From CONTEMPORAR Y GREEK POETRY ............ 210

BY

ANDREAS KARANDONIS

translated by C.

CAPRI-KARKA

From INTRODUCTION TO
D.I. ANTONIOU AND NIKOS GATSOS . . . . . . . . . 221
BY

ANDREAS KARANDONIS

translated by MYRTO KAPRI

THE CHARIOTEE R

THE CREATIVE SEEDS OF THE SPOKEN WORD . . . . . 227

BY KAROLOS KOUN
translated by APOSTOLOS

ATHANASSAKIS

A PROPOSAL FOR AN ANALYSIS

231

TASOS LIGNADIS
translated by C. CAPRI-KAR.KA
BY

LEND SILKEN THREADS TO THE WIND

Posthumously published poems introduced
by EUGENE ARANITSIS
Introduction translated by C. CAPRI-KARKA . 255
Poems translated by MARJORIE CHAMBERS ... 259
(The first lines are used when the poems have no title)
SPANISH RHAPSODY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259
To bring you herbs and myrrh . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 261
What can you say? Virgins stoop .............. ..... 261
TAKE YOUR RING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
Beat tambourines on the slopes. In this gorge ......... 265
Patient horses wait in the courtyard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
ORANGETREE OF AEGINA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
Blood, blood, blood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
Down in the white sea . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
Because I took you ............. ............. .. -. . - 271
A SUMMER NIGHT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273
Ah, what a withered meadow! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
A ruined bell-tower . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275

Table of Contents

NIKOS GATSOS-SELECTIVE DISCOGRAPHY ....... 276

compiled by DAVID CONNOLLY
Manos Hadjidakis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Christodoulos Halaris . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Yorgos Hatzinasios ..............................
Loukianos Kilaidonis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Dimos Moutsis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mikis Theodorakis .............................
Stavros Xarhakos ................................

276
279
279

280
280
281
281

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE . .. .. . . . . .. . . .. .. .. .. . .. . .. . 283

CONTRIBUTORS . . . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . . .. . . 284

EDITORIAL
This issue of The CHARIOTEER is dedicated to Nikos Gatsos,
a very sensitive and original poet of contemporary Greece. As
has been pointed out in most reviews, articles, essays, etc. about
him, Gatsos is considered a very important and influential poet,
in spite of the fact that he published only one long poem,
Amorgos, and a few shorter ones added to subsequent editions
of Am orgos, or published in journals, and then stopped writing
poetry. His other work included a number of critical essays and
his superb translations-real recreations-of plays by Lorca,
O'Neil, Tennessee Williams, Strindberg, Genet and others.
It was also known that he had written the lyrics for a large
number of songs, many of which are exquisite poetry. These
songs, set to music by famous composers such as Hadjidakis,
Theodorakis, Xarhakos and others, had become very popular
all over Greece. With a few exceptions, these lyrics had not
appeared in print, and both their number and literary value had
not been fully appreciated. This changed with the publication,
a few months after the poet's death in 1992, of a large collection of his songs under the title <l>ucra cXEpCxKl <j>6cra lJ.E lJ.~
XalJ.flAWVElc; fcralJ.E (Blow Breeze Blow Me, Don't Abate
Until). The collection includes the lyrics of most, but not
all, of his songs and several more never set to music. The 166
songs/poems were selected by the poet himself and organized
into groups, each with a general title. The publication of this
volume is certain to heighten, even further, the appreciation of
Gatsos by critics and the general public.

This issue starts with a presentation of Gatsos' main poetic

creation, Amorgos, both in Greek and in translation. There is
something unique about this poem. It is lyrical, ambiguous and
challenging concealing a magic quality. In this poem the world
of dreams and fantasy that springs from the unconscious mind
of the poet, with its symbolic suggestiveness, blends with elements of the folk song in a rare amalgam. Although a number
of translations have appeared in various journals, anthologies,
9

10

THE CHARIOTEER.

etc., the translation in this issue is a new one, by Marjorie

Chambers. We then include new translations of Gatsos' three
other major poems, "Elegy," "Death and the Knight" and "Song
of Old Times."
This is followed by a selection of fifty-three songs from the
book mentioned above, translated by David Connolly, Ilona
Karka, George Pilitsis, Margaret Polis and myself. Since songs,
like all poems with rhyme, are difficult to appreciate in translation-especially, in this case, without the powerful effect of the
music-the reader with some knowledge of Greek can read the
originals, which are also included. A brief discussion of most
of the songs selected is presented below.

There are several recurring themes one can see in Gatsos'

songs: the struggle against evil; injustice in .the world; the need
for sacrifice by some people for the sake of others; the sorrow
of the Greek who is forced to go into exile. Also, a main theme
is love, which, except for some rare moments of happiness, is
the source of suffering. It is often unrequited, or leads to the
torment of betrayal or the despair of abandonment, but it can
also sometimes become a self-annihilating passion. Although the
main characteristic of this love is intensity of emotion, one can
discern through various songs contradictory feelings: at times a
sad nostalgia and dreaming of the person from whom the protagonist is separated, but on other occasions the overwhelming
feeling that love, like a dream, fades away, especially in songs
such as "Autumnal Evening," which was not included in the
collection.
Another very important reccurring theme in Gatsos' songs
is the expression of his feelings toward Greece. On the one
hand he sees Greece at these difficult times as threatened and
vulnerable to invasion by neighbors; he fears .that lack of responsibility and deterioration of certain values have led to corruption; he also becomes very critical of the people who govern
the country. He warns the Greeks of a crisis and an impending
disaster. On the other hand, we see in other songs that the poet
has a vision for Greece. In the first song of the collection

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial

11

he depicts Greece as traveling1 ("With Greece as captain I a

frigate sails to Egypt") and, according to the critic D. Karamvalis,
spreading her civilization everywhere. In the "Songs According
to Markos" he asserts that the root of the Greek tradition is
"divine." There are songs in this group that can be seen as an
indirect appeal to the Greeks to return .to the spiritual wealth of
their race, to classical Greek values.
The title of the first group of songs is "Paper Moon." In
the first of them, "Myrtle," the smile of a girl of that name
standing by the window changes to tears, when the protagonist
asks her if :there is any hope of building again a "nest I for
all love's birds." This suggests that the loss of love is irrevocable.
The song conveys the deep melancholy of a shattered happiness.
The second song of this group, "A Holy Virgin," is about a
love so strong that it is expressed in terms of religious worship.
The three following songs, "The Train's Left," "The Song of
Kalymnos" and "The Siren's Song," have the same theme, the
separation of the protagonist from the person he loves and his
promise to wait until the day of return.
The last song in this group, "Paper Moon," conveys the
feeling of emptiness the protagonist experiences when he is
denied the love of a person who is his whole life. The images
of a moon made of paper and a seashore that is unreal reflect
the bleak atmosphere of a world deprived of this love. The
title of this song is also the title of the whole group, since most
of the songs express the same situation of unrequited love.
The group "Word Plays" is a series of songs in which all
of the .themes, even poverty or love, are treated lightly, with
word plays and even some double entendres. The one poem
translated from this group, "One Sunday in March," is about
the separation of two people and the appeal of one of them
to unite again with the person he loves.
The song "Dreams of Smoke" of the group with the same
1Cavafy and Seferis
also use this metaphor of cities or countries
travelling: Cavafy in "The City" ("the city will always pursue you")
and in "The God Abandons Antony" ("say goodbye to her, to Alexandria who is leaving"); Seferis in "In the Manner of G.S." ("Meanwhile Greece goes on travelling").

12

THE CHARIOTEER

title underlines again, as do many others, the poet's belief that

the loss of love makes life empty of all meaning. He regrets
the rapid loss of youth ("youth flowed by like a river") . The
very difficult years that followed the loss make both people
feel defeated. The image that depicts the destruction of love,
"I was a reed in the wind I you a willow in the storm," conveys how devastating the circumstances of this separation were.
Also, the words he uses "love became dust I the dream went up
in smoke," suggest how poignant, how overwhelming his sorrow
is. The entire group entitled "Dreams of Smoke" includes songs
which present love as an enigma. The song "Love Deep in the
Heart" suggests that one should not try to find the truth about
love, as it can become destructive.
The group "Folk Songs and Fairytales" 2 deals not only
with personal but also with general subjects, from the Earth to
Greece and its heroes. In "En Sirio Hay Nines" (There Are
Children in the Star Sirius) the Earth is seen as "the disease
and wound of the universe," but the dream of changing all
this never dies: there are always those who sing songs and write
verses or slogans on the walls. The "Madwoman of the Moon"
symbolizes Greece and the endless sacrifices of her people. In
the eyes of strangers, in the eyes of the "demons of the world"
and the "birds of night," Greece seems like a madwoman, and
the deaths of her children seem senseless, but she derives strength
from her tradition. Another poem related to these sacrifices is
"Four Young Men." Several more hints are included in the rest
of the poems of this group.
The group "Holy Mother of the Skies" is a series of sad
lyrical songs about young men who were imprisoned and executed
and others who died or disappeared. The song "Bring Me the
Sea" is a lament with a very nostalgic quality. The protagonist
feels the need to sing and pray to the sea and sleep in its bosom,
joining his loves that have faded away and will never return.

2The Greek word Gatsos uses "ncx:pa:A.oytc;," refers to a particular form of folk song characterized by narrative style and an imaginary
story line.

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial
~y

long-dead loves
will never return
lay me in its bosom
and let me sleep.

The nostalgia in this song is mixed with a strange weariness

that comes with a sense of irrevocable loss.
In "I Sprinkled You with Rosewater" the poet refers to
a person who has died. His suffering becomes such an unbearable
feeling of desolation, such a deep wound that he expresses himself in a solipsistic way with lines charged with deep emotion,
such as
I sprinkled you with rosewater
you sprinkled me with poison.
The song ends with a desperate invocation to the dead person
to find some way to return for a while from the journey of death
take with you a willow branch
a root of rosemary
become the dew of moonlit nights
and settle in the midnight hours
on your own parched leafy yard.
In the song "~ake the Sun your Boundary," in his desire
to bring back his dead friend, the protagonist urges him to
befriend death, personified by Charon,3 and, riding on his
horse, come back in the form of moon drops.
The song "Holy ~other of the Skies," whose title is the
title of the whole group, is very lyrical. The protagonist expresses
with tenderness his love for a person who has died but also
his grief for a kind of enigmatic renunciation of this earth on
the part of his friend in his search for the "fount of dreams."
The song "Better Days for Us" creates an atmosphere of
melancholy and sadness. It reveals the frustration of a difficult
life, although the reasons are rather vague. It is possible that
3 Ferryman

of the dead in Hades.

14

THE CHARIOTBER.

the lines "bitter summers j near you I came to know" refer to

Greece. It conveys the psychology of a person distressed with
his life; the image "dead doves filled the dawn sky" suggests
an atmosphere of doom. While the first stanza expresses the
misery and the difficulties of a person who cannot live in his
country and is about to go into exile, the second stanza is
probably addressed to a woman, and the protagonist tries to
draw her out of her overwhelming despair with his promise to
return. The song ends with a complete change of mood, a note
of stoicism and an optimistic hope that "better days will come
for [them]." This song became very popular in Greece.
"Now and Forever" is a group of songs the title and the
meaning of which become more clear when considered in the
context of Gatsos' unfinished but very crucial poem "Mavux'rLKoc; EO'ItepLvoc;" ("Mani Evensong"). In that poem he
expresses epigrammatically in one stanza4 the meaning of the
words "Now and Forever" (from the religious expression "vOv
Kal O:e("), when he says that there will always be (now and
forever) those who sacrifice themselves to save others.
This sacrifice is the theme of the song "On the Lower Road,"
which mentions historical figures like Rigas, Aetas, Digenis and
from centuries back, mythical figures like Adonis and Linus but also
Christ. Tasos Lignadis, in his book on Gatsos (A Double Visit
to an Era and a Poet), writes extensively and with particular
sensitivity about this subject, which appears in many songs, the
"brave young man who becomes a martyr for a faith and acquires
symbolic characteristics in the name or in the meaning of Christ."
"Holy Friday," the day Christ was crucified, is the title
of two different songs by Gatsos; one is part of the group
"Days of the Epitaph" and the other is in the group "Now
and Forever." The song in this last group most probably refers
also to the holy week in April 1941, when Greece was occupied
by the Germans in World War II. The poet uses the jackal as
a symbol of war in this and also in other songs. Here he
4Always in this world
Good Friday will come round
and someone will be crucified
so others might be saved.

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial

15

depicts the atmosphere of the deserted villages after the young

men left to fight for freedom.
The song "The Time Has Come, the Time Has Come"
suggests that those who suffered most during the war, the most
desperate and the most abandoned people, are .those who will
rebuild this earth. In "Black Sun" this ominous symbol is used
in a lament for those who lost their lives defending their
country. The last two lines of each stanza are variations on a
theme reminiscent of folk songs. The song "Arena" is an admonition to the brave to fight for justice and for a better world
in the arena of life. It is in this fight for justice that the poet
sees the ultimate truth for the Greek, the essence of human
existence:
And if in the world's din
you see blood singing out
take life as your arena
and fight like a lion.
Then your Hell will fill
with flowers of Paradise.
As the title suggests, the song "Anonymon" is written for
a person whose name is not revealed. The protagonist's love is
expressed as a kind of worship, but the pain for this person's
death is intensified by a more desperate feeling, as he recalls
that, even before death separated them, another kind of separation had taken place that tragically poisoned their relationship.
The lines
drop by drop, how did the lead
enter the heart's holy vein to part us
are among the most moving in Gatsos' poetry.
The song "Those of Us Who Remained" is imbued from
beginning to end with a sense of optimism. It is about the responsibility of the Greeks who survived the war to honor the dead,
"dance in their memory" and make a new start, turning the

16

THE CHARIOTEER

land into a shrine, "a cradle for the unborn children" of future
generations.
"The Drunken Boat," included in the group "Immortality,"
refers, as the title suggests, to the poem by Arthur Rimbaud,
to whom Gatsos addresses himself. It is a crucial poem because
it implies a certain degree of identification with the French
symbolist poet and his struggle against the world of evil, which
is one of the most important themes in Gatsos' poetry.
"Tsamikos," the title of a song in the same group, "Immortality," is a traditional Greek folk dance. It is symbolic here
of the struggle of the Greeks through the centuries to preserve
their land from invaders. A number of heroes are mentioned,
such as Nikiforos, Digenis and Nikitaras, from various periods
in Greek history. Gatsos writes with a unique emotion about
these Greek heroic figures that have God as their judge and
are blessed by Christ.
Theirs is only a handful of earth
but you, my Ghrist, have blessed them
to save this tiny piece of land
from the jackal and the bearlook how Nikitaras dances
and the lute becomes a nightingale.
It is not accidental that this song was included in the group
"Immortality": by sacrificing themselves the Greeks preserved
tradition and ensured the immortality of the nation.
Another song in the group "Immortality" is the "Melancholy
March." It is a rather pessimistic account of the state of the
world, in which the poet, looking in retrospect at the history
of humankind, concludes that Earth is a hell where victory for
some is defeat and betrayal for others. He wonders with sadness "who remembers the poor" in this savage struggle and
"where is the hand of God I to burn the killer and the thief,"
thus expressing a doubt about divine intervention. He knows
that only if people fight evil and not each other, can a new
world be built. This doubt in this song is different from what
we see in "Holy Week" and in songs like "The Dance of the

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial

17

Dogs" and "Better Days for Us," where the poet does not give
up hope.
Two songs from the group "Absurd Songs" have been
translated: "The Nightmare of Persephone" and "Sibyl's
Oracles." In the first the poet deplores the metamorphosis of
the Earth, Greece and, more particularly, Eleysis, the site of
the ancient mysteries, because of industrialization and pollution
of the environment. The contrast he portrays between the past
harmony of nature, with its transparent sea and its flowers on
the one hand, and the labyrinths of concrete and the death of
the birds on the other, reveals a nostalgia for the beauty of a
world that tends to disappear. The suggestion to Persephone
to stay in the underworld because Earth, compared with Hades,
is no Paradise, emphasizes the absurdity of the situation that
modern man has created for himself.
In the other song in this group, "Sibyl's Oracles" the prophetess, after painting a bleak picture of a world from which
humanity and love are absent, insists in her vision that, in spite
of all adversities, love and humanity will always survive. By
including this song in the group "Absurd Songs" the poet may
be suggesting the absurdity of projecting a dream in a cruel
world. The theme of this song is similar to that of "En Sirio
Hay Ninos" of the previous group, "Folk Songs and Fairytales."
Most of the songs of the group entitled "Rebetiko" convey
a sense of pessimism, with only a few offering a ray of hope.
The song "Mother Greece," for instance (not included in the
translations) , expresses bitterness toward Greece, who does not
seem to care for her children that are forced into exile, while she
deludes herself and everyone else, resting on the laurels of her past.
Songs like "I Am Burning" and "Tear After Tear" convey a kind
of resignation and fatalism which we also see in "Do not Blame
Me." There are, however, in the same group, songs with a different attitude, such as "In Amfiali," which deals with the sad
consequences of drug addiction, and the songs "On Bitterness'
Barren Isles," "The Net" and "The Bus Station," which were
selected for translation. In "On Bitterness' Barren Isles" the
protagonist considers the idea of escaping from the vicious circle
of a destructive love. The title of the song symbolizes the psy-

18

THE CHARIOTEER

chological imprisonment and isolation of the protagonist in a

world that he wants to set on fire and burn because it "left
[himJ to rot away." This urge is a kind of reaction to a destructive situation related to love. It conveys the despair caused
by a betrayal which is the essence of the whole song.
In "The Net" there is a kind of warning about the dangers
lurking everywhere in man's life. The net, as the poet mentions,
has "some awesome names I written in a book with seven seals I
some call it the wiles of hell I and others the first spring's
love." What is implied here is the ominous world of evil and
its traps in which man can become caught. An analogous imagery
of net and trapping appears in several of Seferis' poems, such
as "An Old Man on the River Bank," 5 "Fog," "Ayianapa I;'
"Euripides the Athenian" and Three Secret Poems ("Summer
Solstice," Poem 4).
While "The Net" represents a warning, the "Eleventh Commandment" refers to a violation already committed and raises,
in the first stanza, the theme of responsibility:
Glance silently
at this world of sin
and see the earth is burning
and with your hand upon your heart
if you are not touched by the flame
try to find who is to blame.
In the second stanza, however, the protagonist concludes that
the reason for his suffering is that he did not respect an "eleventh
commandment," which is not specified:
Like a lowly humble bird
that never knew the sky
and wanders on the earth
you didn't have enough respect
for the eleventh commandment
and so you suffer still.
5 "Not

like us ... caught in the gaudy nets of a life that was right
and turned to dust and sank into the sand ... " (trans!. by Rex Warner)

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial

19

Here the blame for suffering is attributed explicitly to man himself, something we also see in several of Seferis' poems. 6 There
is, however, a different attitude in an earlier song of Gatsos,
"Rain is Falling." In this song the protagonist defies the Gods
by encouraging another person to walk without fear in the
darkness "that hides a secret" -possibly a hint of an erotic
temptation-even if the Gods do not want it. 7 An inference
could be drawn from the sequence in which the two songs
are placed in the group. One might assume that there is a
continuity of thought from one song .to the other and that
the defiance of the gods in "Rain is Falling" is retracted in "The
Eleventh Commandment" that follows. Reinforcing this idea is
the fact that the title of the song "The Eleventh Commandment" is also the title of the whole group, which suggests that
this is a significant and crucial poem that carries more weight.
As mentioned before, Gatsos' attitude toward Greece is
complex. Sometimes he is angry, as already discussed in connection with "Mother Greece" in the group "Rebetiko" and
as we see in some of the songs of the group "Songs According
to Markos," 8 like the "Dumpy Old Lady" and "Will the Defendant Rise," where he expresses his indignation at the present
state of affairs. On the other hand, the poet acknowledges that
Greece suffered terrible injustices in the past and was often
6

W ounded by my own soil

Tortured by my own garment
Condemned by my own gods,
These stones.
("Mycenae" transl. by Rex Warner)
7Seferis, too, exhibits a different attitude in some earlier poems
such as Mythistorema 16, where the suffering is attributed to the will
of gods.
The knees fail easily when the gods will have it so.
No one is able to escape; no strength will do it, you cannot
Escape the sea which cradled you.
(transl. by Rex Warner)
8Although the title of this group, especially in the puristic Greek
of the original, 'TO: xa'ta Mapxov," alludes to the Gospel according
to Mark, the songs were actually inspired by Markos Vamvakaris, a popular
composer of folk songs, as has been pointed out by Stavros Xarhakos, who
wrote the music for these lyrics.

20

THE CHARIOTEER

victimized by the great powers, as he implies in the song "Sam,

Johnny and Ivan" in the group "Satires." In some songs of the
group "Songs According to Markos," such as "Give me an Identity Card," "This Land" and "A Language, a Country," the poet
does not hide the pride he takes in being Greek: "the root
which is sustaining me j is from the tree of God"; and he reveals
a tremendous feeling for his homeland.
"Give Me an Identity Card" is about the Greek whose country, with a history spanning thousands of years, has survived continuous wars against several invaders and has suffered endless
sacrifices. He feels that all these past and present hardships
and bitter struggles for survival have left him in such a state
that he has almost forgotten his identity, in other words his
origin, his great ancestors and their values. Thus the title of
the poem, "Give Me an Identity Card" involves a subtle irony.
The root which is sustaining me
is from the tree of God.
Give me an identity card
so that I may remember who I am.
In the first stanza of "This Land" Greece is portrayed as
a land of myth and color and also of great tradition. In the second stanza, however, the imagery changes and Greece appears
as a garden with crying orphan children who await their lost
mother before a dosed door. This image can be considered an
allusion to Greece's vulnerability because of her long history
of wars, deprivation and agony. Her crucial geographical position makes her always a victim. The third stanza concludes on
a note of affirmation, expressing the hope that a day will come
when there will be a justification for this land.
The song "A Language, a Country" underlines the value
of the language of the Greek and of his birthplace that gives
him a sense of belonging. It also refers to his "longing" ( KOYJ[-1.0<;) for a more just and humane world which is at the root
of the Greek tradition.
"The First and the Second," of the same group, "Songs
According to Markos," is written from a similar perspective,

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial

21

Gatsos' conviction that Greece is the cradle of Democracy and

Freedom. It is an account of life in Greece in comparison with
some other countries. The poet thinks that Greece has her own
set of principles based on justice and integrity. He expresses,
if not bitterness, a complaint: he wonders why those countries
which make compromises and play political games, which "bow
again to tyrants and traitors" always come first while the Greeks,
who believe in freedom, come second. By the very moving image
of the scarce rain in Greece being "angels' tears," the poet may
be implying that the angels weep for the ordeals of Greece in
her tragic struggle for survival throughout her long history.
"The Dance of the Dogs" in the group "Reflections" is
an allegory about people who suffer continuous injustices. Although these people are victimized and tortured and have no
hope of finding justice, the poet reiterates a note of optimism:
in the midst of life's adversities he feels that an invisible "hand
inscribes inside of [him J: I somewhere there is God."
In his brief song "Epilogue" the poet expresses in an epigrammatic way the pessimistic view that life, "the gloomy mother,"
is "a teacher of suffering." It should be noted, though, that in
the previously mentioned poem "The Eleventh Commandment,"
Gatsos suggests that man himself is partly responsible for his
suffering. This awareness could help one avoid some of the
pain in the future. This comes close to the Aeschylean idea of
the significance of suffering: wisdom comes by suffering.9
The "Song of Old Times," 10 is dedicated to the poet George
Seferis, with whom Gatsos felt a special affinity; Seferis also
considered Gatsos a very fine poet and a friend. He addresses
9

Z~va:

5E ...

Zeus, who leadeth mortals the way

of understanding, Zeus, who hath
established as a fixed ordinance
that "wisdom cometh by suffering."
But even as trouble, bringing
memory of pain, droppeth o'er the
mind in sleep, so to men in their
despite cometh wisdom.
Agamemnon, 173-181
10This poem was included in the collection of songs but first appeared in 1963 in the journal Tachydromos.
"rOV <JlpOVELV ~pO<OIJ<; 65ciJoa:v-ra:, -rov n6:9Et f16:9oc;
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flVTJOlm'Jfl(..)V n6voc; Ka:lna:p'
lXKov-ra:c; ~A9E O(..)<jlpOVELV
'Aya:flEflV(..)V, 173-181

22

THE CHARIOTEER

Seferis in this poem using allusions, images and references to

the Nobel laureate's work. The poem refers to the process of
poetic creation and Seferis' great contribution to it. In the beginning of the poem the turbulent times we live in are presented
as the world's dark river. After depicting a dry, barren landscape conveying a sense of sterility, both actual and symbolic,
the poet praises Seferis for having "carved a fountain," bringing some life-giving dew with his poetry. The reference to
resurrection as "long in coming" may be seen as a response to
Seferis' hope and prediction that "the great agony of the present moment must lead to a great day of resurrection" that will
abolish violence. 11 Near the end of the poem the lines suggesting that Seferis "bring to life again a spring / that awaits in
[his} own rock" are probably an allusion to Hippocrene, the
fountain of poetic inspiration that was reputed to have burst forth
when the ground was struck by the hoof of the winged horse
Pegasus.
The six songs of the Holy Week sequence, "Days of the
Epitaph," are a tribute to Christ. The poet feels that Christ's
sacrifice was the ultimate manifestation of God's love for people.
All six songs are interspersed with frequent quotations, sometimes slightly modified, from the Bib)e and other religiolls texts,
such as "He came upon this earth tci bear \'\ritness'!G tne' ti;i:tth'"
or "He is the life, the light and the peace of the world," ~x
pressing the poet's conviction that Christ is the only hope for
mankind.
In "Holy Monday" the poet uses quotations from the New
Testament and the Holy Monday mass to profess his belief that
the coming one is "the Alpha and the Omega" (Revelation 1:8),
"the architect of the infinite, the shepherd of the stars." Christ,
11 In his essay "Makriyannis," written near the end of the Second
World War, Seferis writes: "( ... ] the great agony of the present
moment must lead to a great day of resurrection [ ... ]. .This resurrection cannot but be a resurrection of the life of man, in its most serious
sense. As such it must put an end to the atrocities, the gagging, the
prisons, the hypocrisies. It must be so; otherwise, alas, all that we live
through today will have been lived through in vain. It must be so;
otherwise the world will sink into a state of living death." ("Makriyannis,"
On the Greek Style, trans!. by Rex Warner and Th. D. Frangopoulos.)

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial

23

anticipating his death, asks his mother to wait for him near the
well of the abyss, by the gates of heaven.
"Holy Tuesday" is a very crucial song. The poet again uses
quotations from the Revelation12 and the poem of the nun Kassiani which is part of the Holy Tuesday mass 13 and presents an
antithesis between Christ and those who spoiled love ("you, a
lamb for slaughter I and we, the rams of sin") . Thus he reveals
the dark side of love. While in many of his songs love is unrequited, here he sheds a different light on the subject of love
and sensual pleasure. The song, though, ends on a note of affirmation, the words of Christ "I have come as a light into the
world, so that whoever believes in Me should not abide in
darkness."
In "Holy Wednesday" the poet again uses imagery and
quotations from the Revelation and more specifically from the
part that presents the conflict between the celestial forces and
the demons and the defeat of the evil spirits. The song starts
with the appearance of the demons emerging from mountain
caves and, after a hint of the impending abolition of death in
the first stanza, it proceeds with the description of a "sea of
glass like crystal" which in the Revelation is before the throne
of G~. . 4,: ) . Then ,.,the p_oet points out that the time to honor
,,, :~. ~c~:~!fllltjlalls Saint Paul's message of Love
.
. . . i.ti!bians--~3): "Faith, Hope, Love. These three. Love the
greatest of all." Although the angels in the Revelation destroyed
the forces of evil, the poet sees on earth the wounds still open
and wonders
When will the sun light the fires
to burn Herod's palace .
so that the flower of evil become a pomegranate?
This image of the burning sun is again an allusion to the Revelation: "the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the sun; and
12"The kings indulged in fornication and the people of the earth
became intoxicated with the wine of fornication" (17:2).
13 "Gloomy and moonless is the desire of sin" (Syn. 334). References
to quotations from the Holy Mass are given as page numbers of IEpex
~6votJil<; (Athens: Astir Editions, 1993), abbreviated as Syn.

24

THE CHARIOTEER

power was given to him to scorch men with fire" (16:8). Gatsos
chooses as a personification of evil Herod, the king of Judaea,
who committed one of the most abominable acts in human history, the slaughter of the infants of Bethlehem. 14 The song ends
with another quotation from Saint Paul (Philippians 2: 14,15),
an admonition to become "blameless and harmless in the midst
of a corrupt and perverse generation," implying that on earth
the struggle against evil is not over.
In "Holy Thursday," the day of Christ's death, the poet
again uses quotations from the Bible15 and the Holy mass. He
starts with a note of praise, "His works are true and His ways
straight" 16 and continues with another quotation which points
out that Christ's crucifixion made it possible for the children of
Adam to return to Paradise from which he was expelledY The
poet expresses the hope that all people on earth will be born
again. The song ends with the most important among the quotations, in which Christ personifies peace: "He is the life, the
light and the peace of the world."
"Holy Friday" is the day of the epitaph and of the expression of deep sorrow. The quotations the poet uses in his
song of that title are from the Holy Thursday mass/ 8 Holy
Friday mass19 and the Revelation. 20 He addresses Christ as "the
first among the first" and "the greatest of the great" and he
offers lilies of the Spring, laying them on the cross. The poet
sees the day of Christ's burial as the day that "Hades opened
up" and "Calvary became a bridge" between Hades and Earth.
"Holy Saturday" refers to another day of mourning for
the death of Christ. In his song, the poet conveys this feeling of
mourning by creating an atmosphere of sterility where the doves
14Herod, fearing the prophecy that one of the children born in
Bethlehem, Jesus, would become king of Judaea, ordered the slaughter
of all the infants of the city.
15
John 18:37.
16 Holy Saturday mass, Syn. 545.
17Holy Thursday mass, Syn. 399.
18
"Worthy is He who suspended the earth on the waters"
"Worthy is He who adorned the firmanent with clouds" (Syn. 396).
19 "Worthy is He who painted the earth with flowers" (Syn. 514).
20 "Worthy is the sacrificed lamb" (Revelation 5:12).

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial

25

fly slowly over thirsty gardens and fields. The song starts with
the word "Remember" and then the poet returns to it using
Christ's own words, as quoted by Saint Paul, only changed from
the first to the second person, to appeal to Him not to forget
his children: "Remember the children God gave You." 21 In the
second stanza, three children alone by the seashore, as if neglected,
symbolize those in need of help. He pleads for an end to the
storm and a return of the sun and professes his faith in Christ
using again His own words changed to the second person: "The
words that You spoke to us are spirit and they are life" (John
6:63) and "For You are the truth, the life and the resurrection"
(John 11:25).
The six songs of the Holy Week sequence are not followed,
as one would have expected, by "Easter Sunday," the day of
Resurrection. In fact, in another of his poems mentioned before, "Song of Old Times," Gatsos writes that "Resurrection
will be long in coming," meaning a symbolic resurrection with
people themselves bringing peace to the earth. Instead, what
follows after "Holy Saturday" is "Gloria Aeterna." In this song
Gatsos, after a retrospective look at the past, referring to the
Greek and Roman civilizations that have almost disappeared and
to the chaos of Babylon, mentions the enmity among people
and portrays the world in dark colors. Thus he implies that the
sacrifice and resurrection of Christ did not much change the
face of the earth, as it should have, and did not abolish hatred
and discord among men. However, the poet ends the song by
professing his own faith. He addresses God and he wants to
use God's stars "to light [His J eternal glory I with rays of light."
As mentioned before, the theme of "Mani Evensong" is
the sacrifice of certain people in order to save the rest. It is an
unfinished poem but it is clear, especially from the reference
to the necessity of sacrifice, that it is about the sorrow of a
mother who has lost both her sons in the struggle for freedom.
21 "Behold I and the children which God hath given me" (Hebrews
2:13). In this epistle Saint Paul explains that Christ was made "a little
lower than the angels," in order to be closer to men and experience their
suffering before He could save them. Christ calls them "brothers" and
similarly the poet in "Holy Friday" addresses Him as his "blessed
friend."

26

THE CHARIOTEER

Another posthumous small volume of Gatsos' work was

published very recently under the title ..6.6:vacrc -ra [lcT6:~la
mov CXvE!lO (Lend Silken Threads to the Wind). The thirteen
poems in this volume were selected from the poet's manuscripts
by Eugene Aranitsis, who also wrote a brief introduction. These
early poems, written before Amorgos, are not very different
from it in style and mood; they could be considered the seeds
of Amorgos, its "forerunners," as Aranitsis writes. One can
discern in them a dream-like quality but also a haunting mood
of despair, mixed with the longing of love:
Because I took you
From your dark lair and brought you up to the clouds
To see golden eagles in their eyries and dancers on threshing floors
To see crosses in lonely chapels and stars on the roofs of trees
To see a thoughtful love on the balconies of the moon
And then with your tear and your smile
To gaze on me as in a dream and take my hand
or, in another poem
A ruined bell-tower
Shows the road of fire to the shipwrecked
It tells the fate of reptiles to the dead
Perhaps the sea will change but spring does not change
Perhaps the clouds will dissolve but your memory will
not dissolve.
The entire collection, translated by Marjorie Chambers, is presented here. The original Greek texts and a translation by
myself of the Introduction are also included.
Also presented in this issue are a number of critical essays
and articles selected from the many that have been written
about Gatsos' work in general and Amorgos in particular. It
should be noted that the publication of Amorgos in 1943 was
met in the beginning with hostility and irony on the part of
most critics of the time, who were not ready to appreciate the
avant garde poetry that it represented. Only later, and gradually,

27

C. Capri-Karka: Editorial

did new critics, more familiar with the techniques of modern

poetry, recognize its great value, and they were fascinated with
its originality. The authors of the essays selected for translation are (in alphabetical order) : Eugene Aranitsis, Alexandros
Argyriou, the Nobel Prize winner Odysseus Elytis, Dimitris
Karamvalis, Andreas Karandonis, Karolos Kuhn and Tasos
Lignadis. The translations are by Apostolos Athanassakis, David
Connolly, Myrto Kapri, Ilona Karka, Margaret Polis and myself.
The Greek original of Elytis' article is also included.
The most extensive analysis of Amorgos can be found in
Lignadis' essay "A Proposal for an Analysis" (a chapter from
his book A Double Visit to an Era and a Poet: A Book on
N ikos Gatsos). It is a comprehensive effort to guide the reader
through the intricacies of the poem. Of course, it is but one of
the possible interpretations and it has its own limitations. Gatsos'
complex poetry can be read in many different ways and some
other views are offered in the other essays presented in this
issue. Although these essays are very valuable and shed some
light on various aspects of the poem, there are still ambiguities
that need further clarification.
Finally, a discography of Ga:tsos' songs, compiled by David
Connolly, is also included for the benefit of those who would
like to have a better acquaintance with this aspect of the
poet's work.

The CHARLOTEER wishes to express its sincere thanks to

Mrs. Agatha Dimitrouka, executor of the poet's literary estate,
who has been of great help in the preparation of this issue. She
provided us with several critical essays and other material and
gave us permission to reproduce the poet's works in this volume.
C. CAPRI-KARKA
Editor


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28

AMORGOS
BY NIKOS GATSOS

translated by Marjorie Chambers

Bad witnesses are eyes and ears to men, if they
have souls that understand not their language.
HERACLITUS

Their country lashed to the sails and the oars

hanging in the wind
The shipwrecked slept calm as dead wild beasts on
a bedding of sponge
But seaweed eyes are turned to the sea
Lest the south wind with fresh dyed lateen
carry them back
And a lost elephant is always worth much more
than the trembling breasts of a girl
Only let the roofs of lonely mountain chapels light up
with the yearning of the evening star
Let birds flutter in the masts of the lemon tree
With the steady white breath of new fledged motion
Then will come winds the bodies of swans that stayed
immaculate tender and still
Among steam-rolling shops and cyclonic vegetable gardens
When women's eyes became coals and the hearts of
chestnut sellers broke
When the harvest stopped and the hopes of crickets began.

Therefore you young men with wine kisses

and leaves in your mouths
I want you to go out naked into rivers
And sing Barbary as the woodsman hunts for the lentisk
As the adder passes through barley fields
With its proud and angry eyes
And as the lightning threshes youth.

29

CHAR.IOTEER

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Poems by Nikos Gatsos

And do not laugh do not cry do not rejoice
Do not vainly tighten your boots as if you were
planting plane trees
Do not become FATE
Because the golden eagle is not a closed drawer
It is not a tear from the plum tree nor a smile
from the water-lily
Neither is it the dove's shirt nor the Sultan's mandoline
Nor silk attire for the head of the whale
It is a saw from the sea that cuts seagulls to pieces
It is a carpenter's pillow a beggar's clock
It is fire in a blacksmith's that scoffs at priests' wives
and lulls the lilies to sleep
It is the match-making of Turks and the Australians'
feast-day
It is the lair of Hungarians
Where in the autumn the hazel nut trees go secretly
meeting together
They see the wise storks dyeing their eggs black
And they too weep
They burn their nightgowns and put on the duck's
petticoat
Spreading stars on the earth for kings to walk upon
With their silver amulets the crown and the purple
They scatter rosemary on the flower beds
For mice to go to another pantry
To go into other churches to eat the Lord's Table
And the owls my children
The owls howl
And dead nuns rise to dance
With tambourines drums and fiddles with pipes and lutes
With pennons and with herbal censers and veils
Wearing bears' trousers they eat the ferrets' mushrooms
in the frozen valley

31

32

CHARIOTEER

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Poems by Nikos Gatsos

They play heads or tails with the ring of Saint John
and the gold coins of the Blackamoor
They laugh at witches
They cut a priest's beard with the yataghan of Kolokotr6nis
They bathe in the vapour from the incense
And then chanting slowly go into the earth again
and are silent
As waves are silent as the cuckoo at dawn
as the oil lamp in the evening.

And so in a deep jar the grape dries

In the belfry of a fig tree the apple ripens
So with a gaudy necktie
Summer breathes under the tent of the vine
And a tender love of mine sleeps naked
among the white cherry trees
A girl unfading as the bough of an almond tree
Her head on her raised elbow and her palm on
her gold coin
On its morning warmth when quiet as a thief
The dawn star comes through the window of spring
to wake her!

33

34

CHARIOTEER

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Poems by Nikos Gatsos

2
They say that the mountains shake and the fir trees
are angry
When nights gnaws at the nails on the slates to let
the goblins in
When hell sucks in the frothing toil of the torrents
Or when the hairline on the pepper tree is pummelled
by the north wind.

Only the oxen of the Achaians in the lush pastures

of Thessaly
Graze sturdy and strong the eternal sun gazing
upon them
They eat green grass poplar leaves celery they drink
dear water in the dykes
They sniff the earth's sweat and then fall heavily
under the shade of the willow to sleep.

Cast away the dead said Heraclitus and he saw heaven

blench
He saw in the mud two small cyclamen kissing
And he too fell down to kiss his dead body
in the hospitable earth
As the wolf comes down from the forests to see the dead dog
and to bewail

36

CHARIOTEER

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c

' ~
a

a c c

Uc c
cu

. cc

' cv '

.
. c
. a
~ c '

'

...

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

37

What use to me is the drop shining on your brow?

I know the thunderbolt wrote its name on your lips
I know an eagle built its nest in your eyes
But here on this watery bank there is one road only
One deceiving road only and you must cross it
You must plunge into blood before time overtakes you
And go across to the other side to find your companions
again
Flowers birds deer
To find another sea another gentleness
To seize Achilles' horses by the reins
Rather than sit mutely rebuking the river
Stoning the river as did K1tsos' 1 mother
Because you too will have been lost and your beauty will have
aged
In the branches of an ozier I see
your childhood shirt drying
Take it, a flag of life to shroud death
And may your heart not be bowed
And may your tear not flow on this implacable earth
As the tear of the penguin flowed once
on the frozen waste
Complaining does not serve.
Life will be the same everywhere with the serpents' flute
in the land of ghosts
With the song of brigands in fragrant woods
With the knife of suffering in the face of hope
With spring pining deep in the screech owl's heart
It is enough for a plough to be found and a sharp
sickle in a blithe hand
It is enough for only a little wheat
To ripen for feasts a little wine for memory a little water
for the dust . . .

1In

the Kleftiko Traghoudhi "Tu Kitsu" Kitsos' mother, unable to

cross to the other side of the river where her son and his fellow brigands
are assembled, throws stones at the water in frustration.

38

CHRIOTBBR

3
i] fl .
<Sy : " "
:y y.
: .

i]
.
., <S
:

. <S

: <S : :

y " .

i] ~
y ~ :
<S :
d: <S .

ui] <Sy u
<S y y
" u :
" .

& : y: :
, : : y: :

: y " y
" : .

Ma

t y ~y
yy
" u : .
" .

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

39

3
In the yards of the afflicted the sun does not rise
Only worms come up to mock the stars
Only horses thrive on ant heaps
And bats eat birds and piss semen.

In the yards of the afflicted night does not fade

Only the leaves vomit a river of tears
When the devil comes in to mount the dogs
And ravens swim in a well of blood.

In the yards of the afflicted the eye has run dry

The brain has frozen the heart has petrified
The flesh of frogs hangs in the spider's teeth
Hungry locusts scream at vampire feet.

In the yards of the afflicted black grass grows

Only one May evening a wind passed
A light tread like the frisking plain
A kiss from the foam-decked sea.

And if you thirst for water we will squeeze a cloud

And if you hunger for bread we will slaughter a nightingale
Only be patient a moment for the healing rue to open
For the black sky to glow for the mullein to flower.

But it was a wind that has gone, a lark that has flown
It was the face of May the white of the moon
A light tread like the frisking plain
A kiss from the foam-decked sea.

40

CHARIOTEER

4
~'
:
, ~ l .
~ u ~ ~

:v ~~
.
u ~
y e
~c

e ~

e y
~ . u

: :: y u
.
~ ~ l
y

l : l
y y ~ l
e e ~
, e
e

~
y vu
. '

e
u ~
l

: . ' -

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

41

4
Clear running water awake from the pine tree root that
you might find the eyes of sparrows and revive them watering
the earth with the scent of basil and the whistling of the lizard.
I know you are a naked vein beneath the wind's fearful gaze
a mute spark amid the shining crowd of stars. No one sees you
no one stops to listen to your breath but you with heavy tread
through proud nature will one day reach the leaves of the
apricot tree will climb on the supple body. of the young broom
bush and roll from the eyes of a lover like an adolescent moon.
There is an immortal stone that a passing human angel once
wrote his name upon and a song that no one yet knows neither
the wildest children nor the wisest nightingales. The stone is
now closed up in a cave on Mount Devi in the valleys and
ravines of my native land but when the cave opens sometime
and this angelic song leaps forth against decay and time the
rain will suddenly stop and the mud will dry the snow will
melt in the mountains the wind will sing the swallows will come
to life again the oziers will quiver and when the people with
cold eyes and pale faces hear the bells ringing by themselves in
the cracked bell towers they will find festive hats to wear and
proud tassels to tie on their shoes. Because then no one will
jest any more the blood in the streams will overflow animals
will break their bridles in the stalls the hay will turn green in
the stables and fresh poppies and mayflowers will spring up
on roof tiles and at all the crossroads they will light red fires
at midnight. Then timid girls will quietly come to throw their

42

CHARIOTEER

y: : <; : : 't
: :
' ' <; 'U
' : : f\
. : '
: (; 1t: l ' '
: 1t : l
a ' '
: . ' :{;' u 't
: a : : :
: : .
' ' : a 'U '' u

u .

5
:1t :
' u ' ''ta
y u
't ' ' ,' u
(; ' u
~ (
y 1t t l
'ty( .

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

43

last garment into the fire and they will dance naked around it
exactly like the time we too were young and a window open at
dawn so that in their breasts a flaming carnation would sprout.
Perhaps children remembrance of ancestors is a deeper solace
and more precious company than a handful of rosewater and the
intoxication of beauty no different from the sleeping rosebush
of the Evrotas. Goodnight then I see a host of falling stars
rocking your dream but I hold in my fingers the music for a
better day. Travellers from India can tell you more than all the
Byzantine Chroniclers.

5
During the course of his mysterious life man
Has bequeathed to his descendants multifarious and
worthy tokens of his immortal lineage
As he has also bequeathed traces of ruins of dawn
avalanches of celestial reptiles as well as
kites, diamonds, and glances of hyacinths
In the midst of sighs tears hunger lamentation
and the ashes of underground wells.

44

CHARIOTEER

6
:u
:u : cry : :

G y
u :
:

~
: : : .

~ : v m'j
~

: :

., I v :u :

: : : u

: : cry

: : :
:~ :
:
: : v ~ v
: v : :u

: : u
:" :-: ..
: : : ~: : v ' l :u av
: ::;
:c '
;

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

45

6
How very much I loved you I alone know
I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades
And with the mane o the moon I embraced you and we danced
on the summer plains
On the gathered reeds and we ate together the cut clover
Great black sea with so many pebbles round your neck
so many coloured gems in your hair.

A ship comes into shore a rusty wheel-well

groans
A plume of blue smoke on the rosy horizon
Like the rending wing of the crane
Armies of swallows wait to say their welcome to the brave
Arms rise naked tattooed with anchors
Children's cries mingle with the west wind singing
Bees go in and out of cows' nostrils
Kalamatan kerchiefs wave
And a distant bell dyes .the sky blue
Like the sound of a church bell travelling in the stars
So many centuries gone
From the soul of the Goths and from the domes of
Baltimore
And from the great monastery of lost Saint Sophia.
But who are these on the high mountain gazing
With calm eye and serene countenance?
This dust in the air is the echo of what conflagration?

46

CHARIOTBBR

~ ~;
;
" " ~

.
u<v :
:
<

: u: :
"
: ~ v ~ : :

~ ' y
~ : :
.: .

: : G
uEv <

: : :
&y :
G G y

:

v: ~
: : .

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

41

Is it Kalyvas2 fighting or Levendoyannis?

Have the Germans joined battle with the Maniates?
Neither Kalyvas is fighting nor Levendoyannis
Nor have the Germans joined battle with the Maniates.
Silent towers guard a phantom princess
Cypress tops befriend a dead anemone
Peaceful shepherds sing their morning song
with a lime-tree reed
A foolish hunter fires a shot at turtle doves
And an old forgotten windmill
With a dolphin's needle mends its rotting sails
And comes down from the slopes with a favouring north-west
wind
As Adonis descended the foothpaths of Khelm6s to say
good evening to G6lfo.3

My tormented heart year after year I strove with

ink and hammer
With fire and gold to make you an embroidery
A hyacinth from the orange tree
A flowering quince tree to console you
I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades
And with the mane of the moon I embraced you and we danced
on the summer plains
On the gathered reeds and we ate together the cut clover.
Vast black solitude with so many pebbles round your neck
so many coloured gems in your hair.

2Kalyvas and Levendoyannis (properly called Bakoyannis) were

chieftains who fought for Greek independence. Referred to in the Istorik6
Traghoudhi, "Tu Dhiaku" (24 April 1821).
3The heroine of a popular play written in 1894 by Spyros Peresiides;
GOlfo, a shepherdess, goes insane when abandoned by her lover.

THE CHARIOTEER

DRAWING 1

This and the following three pages are reproductions in black and
white of four drawings by the painter N. Hadjikyriakos-Ghikas which
were included in the third edition of Amorgos (Athens: Ikaros, 1969).
Drawing 1 belongs to Part One of the poem, Drawing 2 to Part Two,
Drawing 3 to Part Three and Drawing 4 to Part Four. Here they all
appear together for technical reasons, due to the bilingual presentation.

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

49

DRAWING 2

50

THE CHARIOTEER

DRAWING 3

51

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

DRAWING 4

52

CHARIOTEER

: : 1
: c' :
:c' .
< 1

u 1 1 1u :1
~ : 1
~: 1: :1t' : ~: : ~
., 1 1 c'
& 1
1 ~1

1~
: 1 :1 :
: 1 ~
0: : : u
1 ~
: 1

1 :1t~
. : :
: :c'
: : :yc' .

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

53

ELEGY*

In your eye's fire God must once have smiled

Spring have sealed its heart like an ancient shoreline's pearl.
Now as you sleep resplendent
In frozen plains their clematis become
Embalmed wings marble doves
Mute offspring of expectationWould you could come one night like a grey cloud
The rock's fine spray the olive-tree's frost
For on your chaste brow
I too would someday see
The snow of lambs and lilies
But you passed from life like a teardrop of sea
Like the radiance of summer and the last rains of May
Though you too were once one of its cerulean waves
One of its bitter pebbles
One of its tiny swallows in a desolate wood
Without bells at dawn without lamp at dusk
With your warm heart turned to foreign parts
To the decaying teeth of another shore
To the crumbling isles of wild cherry and seal.

translated by David Connolly

*First published in the journal Philologika Chronika, issue 38-40, Febbruary-March 1946.

54

CHARIOTEER

(1513)
Drer

zum Gedachtnis

' ' y -y
: :
: ~
' u :

: : ~ u :
: y : : y

1tou

: ~

: : yy u
y a ~a :

: y :
' u : y
' ' a : l : y
: ~ ~
: u : fi
: : u : :
' ,: ~ :
a a .
: y u u. y : :

: : y fi

: a :

: y: y y
\ u u fi
a

: ~

:
: ~

fi .

55

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

DEATH AND THE KNIGHT (1513)

Diirer zum Gedachtnis
As I behold you motionless
With the steed of Akritas and the lance of Saint George
traveling .through the ages
I could place next to you
By these dark forms that will always accompany you
Until one day you too fade away with them forever
Until you become again a fire in the great Chance that created you,
I could place next to you
a bitter-orange tree in the snowcovered plains of the moon
And I could unfold before you the veil of an evening
With Antares,* all red, singing of youth
With the River of Heavens pouring into August
With the North Star crying and freezing
I could place green meadows
Streams that once watered the lilies of Germany
And I could adorn this iron armor you wear
With a sprig of basil and a bunch of spearmint
With the arms of Plapoutas and the sabres of Nikitaras.
But I who have seen your descendants tear like birds
The sky of my country on a spring dawn
And have seen .the cypress trees of Moreas grow silent
There on the plain of Anapli
Before the eager bosom of the wounded sea
Where the centuries struggled with the crosses of bravery
I will now place next to you
The embittered eyes of a ,child
And the closed eyelids
In the mud and blood of Holland.

*The star Antares is at the center of the constellation Scorpio. Here it

brings overtones of a warrior's aggressiveness.

56

CHRIOTEER

: r r.
. ' ry '
: : r l
l u u u . l yr
rou r r
: rou y : :
: r : : .
: u : v

. ' ' .y l -y
: :
v y r' y:
' . l rou : r

r : : <3 u r:

"r : y r : : . y
rou
"r l r l r. r '
: : rfl
' y: l r:
: y: .

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

57

This black land

Will one day turn green
The iron hand of Gotz will overturn the carts
It will load them with stacks of barley and rye
And in the dark forests with the dead loves
Where time has turned a virgin leaf to stone
On the breasts where a tearful rosebush trembled
A silent star will shine like a spring daisy.
But you will remain motionless
With the steed of Akritas and the lance of Saint George
you will travel through the ages
With these dark forms that will always accompany you
Until one day you too fade away with them forever
Until you become again a fire in the great Chance that created you
Until in the river caverns the heavy hammers of patience
Resound again
Not for rings and swords
But for pruning tools and ploughs.

translated by C. Capri-Karka

58

t~ t
' :
) ' t
: : : '
: : '
: .
' '
: :
'
33
: .
1'j u :
: ' '
'U :
' '
.

:'' 'U
'f] '
: : 1t
u : c
' ' .

: 'U
' :

: 1tcx
1t1')
.

59

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

SONG OF OLD TIMES

To George Seferis
Times change, years go by
the world's river is dark
but I'll go out on the balcony of a dream
to see you bent over your clay
embroidering swallows and ships.
Our sea is bitter and our land is small
and the water in the clouds is precious
the cypress tree is wrapped in bareness
the grass silently burns its ashes
and the sun's hunt never ends.
And you came by and carved a fountain
for the shipwrecked old sailor of the sea
who vanished but his memory remained
a glowing shell on the isle of Amorgos
and a salty pebble in Santorin.
And from the dew that stirred among the ferns
I, too, have taken a pomegranate's tear
that in this notebook I could
spell out the sorrows of a heart
with the first fairytale star.
But now that Holy Tuesday is drawing near
and Resurrection will be long in coming
I want you to go to Mani and to Crete
and there to have forever as companions
the wolf the eagle and the asp.

60

CHRIOTEER

: : : 't
: 't 't) -y
't

: 't : )
'l .

'ltOU

l 'ta :
Q '

: : : 't
: :
'l : l .

Poems by Nikos Gatsos

61

And when you see the falling star

of old times shine secretly
on your forehead with a soft glow
rise up and bring to life again a spring
that awaits on your own rock.

Times change, years go by

the world's river ,is dark
but I'll go out on the balcony of a dream
to see you bent over your clay
embroidering swallows and ships.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

62

CHARIOTEER

,,

: G
1t3 G
1u 1:
: dr: :.
: 1 : 1t:
G : u:
: 11

.
: :
: '3 &
v: L : :
: i] ::'} : 1.

1toG

: 1 : 1:
: :
1u :
: dr: :.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

63

SELECfED SONGS FROM

BLOW BREEZE BLOW ME,

DON'T ABATE UNTIL

THE MYRTLE TREE

I'd a sea on my mind
and a garden of sky
as I set my sails
for regions above.
At the wide windows
a myrtle tree smiled
and weary of walking
I asked it and asked.
Good myrtle tell me where
I'll find earth and water
to build again a nest
for all love's birds.
At the wide windows
the myrtle tree wept
as I set my sails
for regions above.
translated by David Connolly

64

CHARIOTEER

' &1l u

y.
~e

a ' y

, 'u.

'

'

u e
u
'tu
y.

1 &1l U

y.

~
a ' y

: 'u.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

65

A HOLY VIRGIN
A Holy Virgin
a love I've sealed
in a lonely chapel
faraway.
Every evening
I open my heart's door
gaze awhile
and venerate.
When, tell me when
will summer come
when will the star
rise up again
so I may set upon your hair
a crown of gold
like the light of a lamp
on the seashore.
A Holy Virgin
a love I've sealed
in a lonely chapel
faraway.
Every evening
I open my heart's door
weep awhile
and venerate.
translated by David Connolly

66

CHARIOTEER

~ ~c

:
c
.
: 1t:

'lt' :

: .
g

u
:
: .

.
fj &c


cfj fj.
' c
: c

c.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

67

THE TRAIN'S LEFT

The North Star fades

climbing high
and a river of light
flows through the sky.
The children sleeping still
beneath a pomegranate tree
and with a misty tear
I kiss their closed eyes.
The train's left
you've left too
droplet of gold
droplet of gold.
The train's gone
you've gone too
to an isle of blue
to an isle of blue.
You took from summer
in your tiny hand
the lowest star
and went to another land.
I'm going too with dreams
to wait for you
still water
in a cool spring.
The train's left
you've left too.

translated by David Connolly

68

CHARIOTEER

YJIIU'I
' 'C i] :
'ltoul : G a
:

: : G
' G ' : ({)&

: G .
" & :
' y:

: '
'
. ' &

: .

'
i] i]
&.
: ,G
l ' '.

'
: G ' '
: 6 '.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

69

SONG OF KALYMNOS
Now you're off to foreign lands
I'll become a bird of the South
to come before you quickly
bringing you the cross
you asked me to find
and the ring I have to give you.
Farewell husband and master
may the Virgin go with youand when summer comes
as a charm I'll have hung
my heart like a star
at the open window.
You were a cypress
by the house
and cherished.
Who will give me now
the kiss that I await.
On the lovely seashore
I long for your return
like a tiny joyous bird.

translated by David Connolly

70

CHARIOTEER

1
't f
: 'tf
y: : G 1t

: : 't.

vf)

: ~
: , :
: .
t :
:
G yG
't 'lto .

G
:

'ltou

: .

u
'ltol

' ;

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

71

THE SIREN'S SONG

With my white kerchief
I'll bid you farewell
and so you'll return
I'll go off to church.
I'll light the oil lamp
blow out the candle
I'll close my eyes
and dream of you.
I had your two lips
matched with my own
don't take from here
homecoming's star.
I gave you a conch
to hold in your hand
till next year's summer
when I'll see you again.
Why are you so sad
you too don't speak
bird on a journey
to a distant isle ?

translated by David Connolly

72

CHARIOTEER

: :
: y
!V: ' : :
: .

:

.
y


.

:
:
.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

73

PAPER MOON

The sea will bring birds

and the wind stars of gold
to lovingly caress your hair
to gently kiss your hand.
A moon made of paper
a seashore that's unreal
if you believed me a little
it would all come true.
Without your special love
time passes all too fast
without your special love
the world is so much smaller.
A moon made of paper
a seashore that's unreal
if you believed me a little
it would all come true.

translated by David Connolly

74

'

CHARIOTEER

'

y .
' :

y a
yfj .

J
:

~ .

uv


.

~ ' fj
' :
'' ftv
.
' a ~
v fl ' .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

75

ONESUNDAYINMARCH
One Sunday in March
and during Lent
you were on the mast
and I on the ship's deck.
We kept the tears
on our eyelashes
for us the earth's boundaries
had no end.
One Sunday in March
and during Lent
we hung on the map
a piece of red thread.
And when we returned
we welcomed
the first swallow
by the helm.
I didn't send you an apple
and so I lost you as a friend
but now with an orange
I'll win you back again.
Captain of my heart, kiss me
so that I may drink the sun
from a glass again.

translated by George Pilitsis

76

CHARIOTEER

fi
(! : :

u y.
fi

y
.

: :
::
' e
.

fi '

:y
.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

77

DREAMS OF SMOKE
I sowed seeds in your garden
so birds would come at nightwhich moon has taken you, tell me
and emptied the world's embrace.
On the balcony of night
the sky turns to ice
love becomes dust
dreams a wisp of smoke.
Youth flowed by like a river
time proved an uphill climb! was a reed in the wind
you a willow in the storm.
On the balcony of night
the sky turns to ice
love becomes dust
dreams a wisp of smoke.

translated by David Connolly

78

CHARIOTEBR

'

.
.

MoG

'

'

'
' .

1 s 1
.

' '

.
s
. 1
.1p
.
.

1 .
ya

't sa 't
< .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

19

LOVE DEEP IN THE HEART

One afternoon
at the seashore
as if shipwrecked
I arrived
I arrived.
You gave me water
in a silver cup
to cool myself
I thank you
I thank you.
Love deep in the hear.t
like a stormy ravine
one evening
you overflowed
destroying us.
Stop searching
for the whole truth
what love is
ask me not
ask me not.
Look for it
in the fairytales
now you cannot
it's too early
it's too early.
Love deep in the heart
like a stormy ravine
one evening
you overflowed
destroying us.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

80

SIRIO

CHARIOTEER

NINOS

6t :
~ . :
'
' '' :
a . : .

t u av
' :
' '

u ~
'a a .
u '
' :

y

v& u .
: :

~ ' ~:
: .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

81

EN SIRIO HAY NINOS

There are children on the star Sirius
who have never had a worry in their hearts
they have never seen war or death.
On Sundays, over their blue school uniforms
they wear their festive clothes.
At night, when they look at the sky
a star like a feather from the sea
strangely troubles their minds
it seems like a distant ship
and they go and ask their teacher.
That, he says, my children is the Earth
the disease and wound of the universe
there people sing songs, write verses
and tirelessly chasing a dream,
they cover the walls with slogans.
In Sirius the children shed tears
and ever since that night
a worry has entered their little hearts.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

82

EITAN

CHARIOTEER

n:
a:
: "y n
: ..

l n:
l :

n cm'J
.
n:
a:
n :
ny.
l n:
: <:>: : :
:
' : .

niJ
fj : nl
n
<:> .

n:
a:
n :
nn.

l l

n n
n .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

FOUR YOUNG MEN

There were four young men
greetings to you old man of Moreas
you fought like a wild animal
coaching them endlessly.
Swallows and swords
in a string over their hearts
on the heights of Karytena
with the sun for company.
There were four young men
greetings to you old man of Moreas
no house was big enough for them
and time was marching on.
Dark and bitter years
on the bare mountains
blood was being shed
in streams and glens.
When Easter came
they'd dress up like bridegrooms
and death would follow them
like a winged rider behind them.
There were four young men
greetings to you old man of Moreas
no place would hold them on
and time was marching on.
Path after path
that's how it's written
over the curse
they would plant chrysanthemums

83

84

.

' a
'
.

CHARIOTEER

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

85

But when the command

came on the land like lightning
the poor lads dropped
like cypress cones.
There were four young men
tell us old man of Moreas
tell us if you met them
and if you comforted them.

translated by George Pilitsis

86

CHARIOTEER

u fj
u

.

,: u eu
e u

: v.
fj
G
'

.
e
: u eu
e u
: .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

87

MADWOMAN OF THE MOON

High on Digenis' threshing floors
on long hot summer nights
demons of the lower world
call me madwoman of the moon.
Yet I hold a golden bull
from Byzantium long ago
and the wild depths I spy
are beyond all human ken.
High in Digenis' castles
on the tomb of the fearless lad
birds of night beneath the stars
call me madwoman of the moon.
Yet I hold a golden bull
from Byzantium long ago
and the wild depths I spy
are beyond all human ken.
translated by David Connolly

88

CHRIOTEER

'.
u
: nu
u

: nu.
' : n u
ry
.
~u.
u

: yuf]

fl
y: : .
' yn u
: ' n

~
.
.u
: nu
. 'u
: u.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

89

BRING ME THE SEA

Bring me the sea
to kneel before
bring me the sea
and let me pray.
I nourished your bowels
great ocean wave
with countless graves
beneath the deep sea.
Bring me the sea
to sing of it
bring me its sun
to give me warmth.
My long-dead loves
will never return
lay me in its bosom
and let me sleep.
Bring me the sea
to kneel before
bring me the sea
and let me pray.

translated by David Connolly

90

CHARIOTEER

U e a
y

y
y
1u .

,
ya

a y.
u '
~ '

l' a

' .

1ya
'a y~.
(;y y
(;
y yy
t
.

1

ya u
a .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

91

I SPRINKLED YOU WITH ROSEWATER

In the other world you're going
see you don't become a cloud
or a bitter star of dawn
to be seen by your mother
who's waiting at the door.
I sprinkled you with rosewater
you sprinkled me with poison
eaglet of the bitter cold
hawk of the wilderness.
I gave you a knife of gold
and my silver goblet too
to drink from Lethe's waters
and carve your name
imperishable in stone.
I sprinkled you with rosewater
you sprinkled me with poison
eaglet of the bitter cold
hawk of the wilderness.
Take with you a willow branch
a root of rosemary
become the dew of moonlit nights
and settle in the midnight hours
on your own parched leafy yard.
I sprinkled you with rosewater
you sprinkled me with poison
eaglet of the bitter cold
hawk of the wilderness.
translated by David Connolly

92

CHRIOTEER

u
:'y
<?

: u
:

,.
u
'y
u
<?
<?:

: yyv .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

93

MAKE THE SUN YOUR BOUNDARY

In the place you're going
embittered boy
make the sun your boundary
and when it fades away
open up your eyes
and knock on the closed door
at midnight.
In the place you're going
embittered boy
make death your friend
and riding on the horse
cross mountains
and come back again
like a sprinkle of moon drops.

translated by George Pilitsis

94

CHARIOTEER

y av l
v : y
: 5
: .
: u u v v y
:
5f] : yf]
: .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

95

HOLY MOTHER OF THE SKIES

I raised you with earth and water
to be a swallow and wild beast too
so I might have you an ABC forever
and a never-fading lamp in memory.
Yet searching for the fount of dreams
beside the Holy Mother of the skies
you found wings and renounced the earth
our dark and primal mother.

translated by David Connolly

96

CHARIOTEER

. .
:
v u

:

: :
:

.
:
:
e

: . sc
:
:
" : l : .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

97

BETTER DAYS FOR US

I'll water
time
with a salt tear
bitter
summers
near you I came to know
dead
doves
filled the dawn sky.
I'll return
farewell
sad Holy Virgin
don'.t weep
or wear heartache
like a lucky charm
just say
never mind
better days will come for us.

translated by David Connolly

98

CHARIOTEER

'
:

' (-y .

.,

y l l l
~ :

.
l ~
l
ii
y: y: : .
'
, l : .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

99

YOU WERE A CHILD LIKE CHRIST

You entered and the house shone
like the open leaves of clover
and you had the Hesperus' light
enclosed in your saintly eyes.
On the table you left behind
bread and milk and honey
and I watched the dream playing
in your pelagian body.
Wave and pebble and salt spray
and hot summer days that were mine
not one of your tears did I take
to bathe in the bitter cold.
Thankyou again thankyou
you were a child like Christ.
translated by David Connolly

100

CHARIOTEER

'ltOU

r : .

(;
. 't
: u u.
f)
: 't

1tou (;
c: '
u 't : .

1t( 't(;
't
( .
(

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow .Me

101

ON THE LOWER ROAD

On the lower road
now as night falls
the tiny swallow
folds its wings.
On the lower road
neighbours appear
on balconies
to see the tragedy.
They brought Rigas the Eagle Digenis
and his face was pale like a sheet.
On the lower road
now as evening falls
hoarfrost covers
the garden's branches.
On the lower road
behind the windowframe
someone screams out
rending the heart.
They brought Adonis Linus Christ
and his fair body was still warm.

translated by David Connolly

102

r~
r :
r
' 'y .

: l
l r! .

:
r 't
.
: ~
'
' r' ~

.
r:
:
r :
: .

fl
rl
~~

.

.

CHARIOTEER

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

103

HOLY FRIDAY
In the little garden
before the church
you looked like a tiny bird
in wild foliage.
Holding in your hand
spearmint and a holy candle
you were saying "Lord
save us again."
It was Holy
Friday.
The year unfolded
night after night
the clock of war
struck nine.
We saw the horrible jackal
come out of the cage
with a fierce look.
It was Holy
Friday.
The young men gone
the villages deserted
the young were fighting
for freedom.
Before leaving
I came to see you
you were silently weeping
bowing your head.
It was Holy
Friday.

translated by Margaret Polis

104

CHARIOTEER

' 'U ~ '

'U
v a &y

....

.,. ~

' u 'i)
.,. ~
v .
'U ' ~ C:v
1t
'U ' c 1t
a ~' : &y

...

.,. ~
' '
.,. ~
.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

105

THE TIME HAS COME, THE TIME HAS COME

You who had worry as your pillow
and as your mattress a life of loneliness
you who wouldn't raise your head for years
and never felt kindness from anyone ...
The time has come, the time has come
over the wound of the world
The time has come, the time has come
to start rebuilding this earth.
You my brothers who never uttered a word
and never saw a feast's daylight in your home
you whose insides were flooded with sorrow
and who were seen by others as blank sheets ...
The time has come, the time has come
over the wound of the world
The time has come, the time has come
to start rebuilding this earth.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

106

CHARIOTEER

i]
: ,:
,: (;f} (;

:
u.
' '
:a :

' :
& :
' :
.
i]
t (;: :

: ' ':
' :

'.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

107

THE BLACK SUN

The sun is black today
and fair skies a chimera
yet I found rock and shore
in this sinful world
and hurled the wrongs
into forty waves.
Poor brother I brought you
freedom's water-lilies
and with a bitter gaze
I gathered your holy clothes
and washed away the blood
in forty streams.
The sun is black today
and church bells toll
yet on suffering's slopes
I knelt before the Virgin
and wept for the victims
beside forty graves.

translated by David Connolly

108

CHARIOTEER

"


.
& c
w

~.
(;

.
fl
fl
:L
(;.

& (;

i]
.

e (;
.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

109

THE ARENA
The rock drinks water
and water the rock
but in difficult times
consider your lot.
And if in earth and heaven
you see justice stifled
make an eternal judge
of your good brave arm.
Then your Hell will fill
with flowers of Paradise.
The sun drinks fire
and fire the sun
but with an eagle's gaze
make the earth your realm.
And if in the world's din
you see blood singing out
take life as your arena
and fight like a lion.
Then your Hell will fill
with flowers of Paradise.

translated by David Connolly

110

CHARIOTEER

:

-
e
-

:.

-
!S ;
!S
y :y
-
:!S

-
- .
!S -
ay !S ;

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

111

ANONYMON
I will build a church
at the seashore
and before hanging an icon of you
I will come with the morning dew
to leave my tears
at your door.
Drop by drop, how did the lead
enter the heart's holy vein to part us?
Sleep well, my king
at the bosom of the earth
and before the clock strikes
I will climb the stairs
to sing a dirge
at your door.
Drop by drop, how did the lead
enter the heart's holy vein to part us?

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

112

CHARIOTEER

.
y:
~

: ~
: ~
~, : .

,, : l
: fl G
y u~
: ~ G
: : c .

: ~yu : ~:
: : -r1
y: :
: u y
y: y .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

113

WE WHO HAVE REMAINED

We who have remained on this harsh soil
will burn incense for the dead
and when the caravan of the great
swashbuckler Death disappears in the distance
we'll set up a dance in their memory.
We who have remained will have
a slice of the sun's bread in the morning and
golden honey from unharvested honeycombs
and with no more fear
we'll move on in life.
We who have remained will go out
at night to sow grass seeds in the wasteland
and before night takes us for ever
we'll turn this land into a shrine
a cradle for the unborn children.

translated by George Pilitsis

114

CHARIOTEER

'
' : '
~
: '

'U ' : ~.
yy y:

' ~:
:
y: .
u ':

:
:
'.
'
' : '
~
:

'U ' : ~.
'
~ '

' '
y

l - 'C .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

THE DRUNKEN BOAT

Arthur Rimbaud
tonight I'll come aboard
your black drunken boat
and I'll sail far away
to a horrible circle
that people do not understand.
Angelic jasmine
you've scattered in the dirt
a heritage
for us
and you at dark crossroads
forever
fight
with Satan.
Arthur Rimbaud
tonight I'll come aboard
your black drunken boat
and I'll sail far away
to a horrible circle
that people do not understand.
Arthur Rimbaud
dim is the night
and closed is the gate of heaven
wrath and fury
divide the earth
and the damned walk hand-in-hand.

115

116

CHARIOTEER

yy y:
: (?:

:
y:
u ::

:
:
:.

:
(? :

: :
y
y
- :C .
:
:
: : (?
:
:
: :: : (?.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

117

Angelic jasmine
you've scattered in the dirt
a heritage
for us
and you at dark crossroads
forever
fight
with Satan.
Arthur Rimbaud
dim is the night
and closed is the gate of heaven
wrath and fury
divide the earth
and the damned walk hand-in-hand.
Arthur Rimbaud
Arthur Rimbaud
I' 11 come aboard your drunken boat
Arthur Rimbaud
Arthur Rimbaud
to see which spark survived still burning.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

118

CHARIOTEER

'
: : ~:

:
't 't

, i]

" t;.

:
:
: :
'lt'
S. 't
't.

1t '1tp :
'lt' :
't
:
'
.

119
Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me
-------------------

TSAMIKOS 1
Up on the rough mountains
with a flute and a clarinet
upon the sacred rock
three brave men dance
Nikiforos and Digenis2
and the son of Anna the ComninP
Theirs is only a handful of earth
but you, my Christ have blessed them
to save this tiny piece of land
from the jackal and the bearlook how Nikitaras4 dances
and the lute becomes a nightingale.
From up in Epirus down to Moreas
and from darkness into freedom
the festivities go on for years
on death' s marble threshing floors
judge and master is the Lord
and the people his dragoman. 5

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

1Tsamikos: A folk dance, performed usually by men and expressing

a sense of bravery.
2Nikiforos (Fokas) : One of the greatest Emperors of Byzantium
(963-969 A.D.) ; he secured the borders of the empire, especially of Asia
Minor against Arab invasions and recaptured Cyprus and Crete.
Digenis (Akritas): the Akrites (from the word aKpT] =border)
were special troops charged with the crucial role of guarding the borders
of the Byzantine Empire; Digenis was a legendary frontiersman of
extraordinary strength and courage, a hero of hundreds of folk songs.
3 Anna Komnini: daughter of Byzantine Emperor Alexios the 1st
Komninos (1081-1118 A.D.).
4Nikitaras: hero of the Greek War of Independence.
6Dragoman: interpreter.

120

CHARIOTEER

EMBATHPIO

y
:: fl
': ' .

y

fu .
.
'

:: ::
y :: .
' :: ' ::

::

fl
< .

y

1t .
,

1toO

'

: ::
y :: .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

121

MELANCHOLY MARCH
A storm broke out in the morning
on this hellish earth
some took life in their hands
while others were betrayed.
What's left for us Nikita*
turn round and take a look
thousands of years on the torture wheel
tell me who remembers the poor.
What's left for us Lefteri
where is the hand of God
.to burn the killer and the thief
and let a new world be built.
The nightingale stopped singing
in the leaves of the lemon-tree
some took the right path
while others tumbled down.
What's left for us Nikita
turn round and take a look
thousands of years on the torture wheel
tell me who remembers the poor.
What's left for us Lefteri
where is the hand of God
to burn the killer and .the thief
and let a new world be built.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

*Two names the poet uses here, "Nikitas" and "Lefteris" have symbolic
connotations: Nikitas (vlKTj=victory) suggests a winner who has
no consideration for the poor, while Lefteris (E.A.w9Ep(a:=freedom)
is someone who struggles to free the oppressed.

122

CHARIOTEER

(b

' '

' y .
v

' .
fj
< .


fl - ' (b
y .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

THE NORTH STAR

The North Star
will bring fair skies
but before a sail is seen on the seas
I'll become water and fire
to embrace you foreign lands.
And distant homeland left behind
you'll always be caress and wound
when day breaks on another shore.
Now I am bound for life's celebration
now I am bound for my festival of joy.
My bygone moons
my new-found birds
chase from the mountain sun and day
and you'll see me pass by
like lightning in the sky.

translated by David Connolly

124

CHARIOTEER

1 1

1tou

&y

~~ 1t&
1p :
: 1t0: 1t : .

u :
~: 1 '1t
1tc 1t

v 1t< : .
"

1tou

i] 1 : ~

U'~< : y
: : 1t: .

y:
1tv

1 ~.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

125

PERSEPHONE'S NIGHTMARE
Where pennyroyal and wild mint once grew
and the earth pushed up its first cyclamen
now peasants argue prices for cement
and birds fall dead into the furnace.
Where once initiates joined hands
in piety before entering the telesterion
now tourists throw their cigarette butts
and go to view the new refinery.
Where the sea was once a blessing
and the bleating a welcome in the plain
now in the dockyards lorries carry
hollow bodies scrap kids and metal sheets.
Sleep Persephone sleep
in the earth's embrace
on the world's balcony
never come out again.

translated by David Connolly

126

CHARIOTEER

r.' fi 'f

yr.

(; r..

r.~f (;y

-y (;

&. r..
r. r.

r.a
r. u< yr.

r. r. ' r..

yr.
a c r. r.
y~ r. '
a , r.

r. r.
r. r. r. l a
r. a r. ' yr..

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

127

THE SIBYL'S ORACLES

From my mother's womb

I've learned to stay awake
I burn sulphur in the pot
and read the smoke and fumes.
My true and faithful owl
I question every night
and chewing sacred bay-leaves
I fly to other shores.
My good and oldest book
has faded now with use
who ever thinks of love
who believes in kindliness.
Yet love
will live again with all its pain
again face its destruction
will see all lost, yet always
with darkness before darkness behind
always and always again once more
will always live and always be love.

translated by David Connolly

128

CHARIOTBER

r
a

' 1
~ ,

u y
a .
t v

fj
u .

.
,u u ~, ~

~ a
. (

1. l

v l .
~

~

u
a .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

129

ON BITTERNESS' BARREN ISLES

Where will I find five swords

and blazing torch in hand
to set fire this same day
and burn for certain
a world I dearly loved
that left me to rot away.
On bitterness' barren isles
I came to taste my tears
and in life's prison
where no Sundays exist
I never in my life forgot
that killer loneliness.
And you who came one night
to warm for me my heart
alas you flung me out
into the dark midwinter
you betrayed and spat on me
joy you were turned sour.
Where will I find four candles
and certainty in my soul
to set fire straightaway
and burn this same day
a world I dearly loved
that left me to rot away.

translated by David Connolly

130

CHARIOTEER

: :u y
: ~
: : ~-:l
y : : a .
"' : : ~ :

l : : : ~y
~
c :.
~ ~:
: ' ' y :
: ::
: : y:.

"' : : ~ :
l : : : ~y
~
: :.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

131

THE NET
Each time you cut a path in life
don't wait for darkness to find you
keep your eyes open day and night
there's always a net waiting for you.

If you ever get caught in its snare

there's no one can set you free
alone find the ends of the thread
and if you're lucky start out again.
This net has some awesome names
written in a book with seven seals
some call it the wiles of hell
and others the first spring's love.

If you ever get caught in its snare

there's no one can set you free
alone find the ends of the thread
and if you're lucky start out again.
translated by David Connolly

132

CHARIOTEER

: : : (;

:
13 .
:
: : 'y u ::

(;
: ' : (;.

:
:

:
: (; :.

:

: : : 13

:
13 .

' l
l ::
.: : :
: :.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

THE BUS STATION

The bus station
blurry and cold
some people talk of strange rains
and the long voyage
like a wild snake
fills weak souls with fear.
Tonight we both resemble
-I behind and you in fronta bus at night
with its headlights dark.
For us the world is not ending
for us the world will now start
but leading us to nowhere
is the black snow of my heart.
The bus station
blurry and cold
some people talk of strange rains
and the long voyage
like a wild snake
fills weak souls with fear.
My man, my neighbor, my friend
in poverty and in exile
send me a tiny frozen spark
and I will turn it to a fire.

133

134

CHARIOTEER

: '
'U : ': l
y: : y ' :'
f]' .
'

' y: ' ~

: :y
~ l u.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

135

And if you do not burn, come later to me

when no one else remains
so we may turn back into humans
in the garden of Gethsemane.
The bus station
blurry and cold
some people talk of strange rains
and the long voyage
like a wild snake
fills weak souls with fear.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

136

CHARIOTEER

:
, u
"
.
,

)
&

~:.
i
~

u.

<


1t " .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

137

HAIL AND FAREWELL VENICE

Hail and farewell Venice
I'm on my way South
and from the tall mast
I implore the wind.
Blow breeze blow me
don't abate until
I see an azure church
Tsirigo and Monemvasia.
Hail and Farewell Venice
I'm out in open seas
singing at the rail
for all the world to hear.
Blow breeze blow me
don't abate until
I see the peaks of Crete
my mother and sister there.

translated by David Connolly

138

CHARIOTEER

<6
' '
' <6
u .
<6
' i]
' <6
<6.
<6
' <6
1 <6

<6.

<6
'U
' <6i]
u .
"<6 ''
l
:

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

139

RAIN IS FALLING
Rain is falling
falling on my face
rain is falling
on the mirror of the world.
Rain is falling
in the East and the West
rain is falling
and the sun is lost.
Rain is falling
the sky is dark as lead
rain is falling
and the night hides a secret.
Rain is falling
as I am writing to you
rain is falling
on the tomb of Christ too.
Go out and walk in the dark
though the gods do not will it
for sun you have your warm youth
for sun you have your life.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

140

CHARIOTEER

1
' v ~ ']
:
l y r .
l :
: yy ry:
: ~ r .
: r r
rou y
l rr

~ ru

y r .
' l r:
: :
: < : ~.
: ' :
rou r : :

l : .
~ : ~
u
r

r yl
.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

THE ELEVENTH COMMANDMENT

Glance silently
at this world of sin
and see the earth is burning
and with your hand upon your heart
if you are not touched by the flame
try to find who is to blame.
Like a lowly humble bird
that never knew the sky
and wanders on the earth
you didn't have enough respect
for the eleventh commandment
and so you suffer still.
It is new and it is old

like the reflection of the soul

like the bottom of the heart.
But in the fire of the world
where all the papers were confused
no one will ever know it.
Go off to find Moses
and ask for yourself
if he may happen to know it
this eleventh commandment
which is as transparent as glass
and sharp as a knife.

141

142

ry

.
)
f] rl
fh.
r r
rou
' fh.

l

(;.

CHARIOTEER

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

143

In your icy loneliness

laughter turns into loss
and beauty into darkness.
This is how life is my friend
it brings sunshine at dawn
and mist at night.
Be patient, then,
now that neither light will shine
nor is a ship arriving.
The eleventh commandment
is known only to madmen
and all the slaves of this earth.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

144

CHARIOTEER

'f
1

1t1

.
1t
y
: 1tou

y y.
t 1t'

1 .
:
: 1 t.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

145

GIVE ME AN IDENTITY CARD

I have no name and no home
no laws and no codes
for centuries I roam
over haunted roads.
I have bitterness as my mother
and necessity as my wife
on this ground on which
Turks and Franks once danced.
The root which is sustaining me
is from the tree of God.
Give me an identity card
so that I may remember who I am.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

146

CHARIOTEER

l r
'L rou
~ ~
r r
rou ~ .

l l l

r
r l
r'L
: .

r rv
f}
.: rv
r' : '
: v~
: .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

147

BEHIND BLACK IRON BARS

The winds keep pounding
upon decaying doors
and those who have loved
pace back and forth, alone
behind black iron bars
that are boiling hot today.
Alas, alas and alas again
my crazy mother Greece
bring me tonight to my cell
tobacco, fuses and raki
and a stick of dynamite
to turn this jail to ashes.
Love, those who believed in you
only themselves have hurt
but even those who didn't believe
release them from their bonds
to find their own path again
with zero as their law.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

148

CHARIOTEER

' ' ~

'
~
fl~ou .
' i]

' :
.
' ' '
':
':

' : '
'U l
:

' .
' ' ~ ~
: '
'U

: :
l ' '
'U
' ' y.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

149

THIS LAND
This land is a myth
of color and light
a secret myth
bound to the world of the sun.
Each dawn it sets out
to rejoin
its own immortal race.
This land is a garden
with crying children
on the blue apron
of a mother forever lost
whose desolate companions
await her appearance
before a door which is closed.
This land is a rock
as sharp as a sword
which the wisdom of time
will turn into song someday
and the time will come
when our poor souls
will hear its tune in the air.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

150

CHARIOTEER

: av

: .

ToG

: :

.
3

:
u
.
:
:

3 & .
: 3:
: : G
G
.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

151

A LANGUAGE A COUNTRY
Man is a handful
of bitter dough
born an archangel
he dies a wild beast.
The only thing he's left in life
a language and a country
his first consolation
and his final hope.
All of his fortune and his wealth
a longing in his bosom
and the land where he was born
the only truth that counts.
Look at this young man
with his strong hands
how does he lead his brothers
climbing to the stars.
And from the mounts of Roumeli
to the islands of the South
an ancient grandfather
is looking at his grandson.
translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

152

CHARIOTEER

v

1t 13 y
1t
a

: .
'' 1t i]
't 3 't
' ' 13

13.

U /3 '

~ 't

v ' 1t
v
' 1tv ;

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

153

THE FIRST AND THE SECOND

On this harsh land
where rain is angels' tears
we never had enough water
and standing aside in panic
we began a duel
with the elements and ghosts.
So life marches on
in the hustle and bustle of the world
sometimes on the wrong path
and sometimes on the right
headed straight to Elysia
sprinkling its impassionate carriage
with blood and dust.
Why, why, why, my Lord
those who hang down their head
and bow again
to tyrants and traitors
why, why, why, my Lord
should they always come first
and we the innocent and free
should always he second?

translated by George Pi/itsis

154

CHARIOTEER

: G

, G
CS u

v :
~CS : CS
}
: .

: CS:
.

:
:
u : : .

: u
:
.

}
r u

: : .
: u u
} &y
y
u .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

THE DANCE OF THE DOGS

Five hungry dogs
in a life full of torment
amidst insults and boos
put on new garments
and in festive clothes
went out for a walk
by the gates of paradise
behind the old church.
In life never
ask to find
who's the judge.
As you walk along
always look for
a place to hide.
In the loneliness of the world
a hand inscribes inside of me:
somewhere there is God.
Five hungry dogs
waited among the first
to start their dance
by the gates of paradise.
But before the crack of dawn
angel policemen
hung them high on hooks
in heaven's holy order.

155

156

CHARIOTEER

't
a : ~
't .

: a
: a
u : 'lta : .
(
: : :
1t .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

157

In life never
ask to find
who's the judge.
As you walk along
always look for
a place to hide.
Dogs, my friends, don't cry
in your misery keep saying:
somewhere there is God.

translated by George Pilitsis

158

CHARIOTEER

>v
. < 1tfiy 1p1p.

~ fi.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

159

EPILOGUE
Lady life gloomy mother
ah, you haven't moved us any farther.
Lady life teacher of suffering
when one sorrow goes, others follow.

translated by George Pilitsis

160

CHARIOTEER

(J')y rxl ~ rxl .

"Acprx rxl r.
, ' .
~ : &>.
'j &.ru.

tij &..
, :
u : ~: .

u6~ .
8rr1j C.
t u
i] ~.
U. r r.

0 (J')y

rxl ~ rxl .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

161

HOLY MONDAY
The One who is and who was and who is to come.
The Alpha and the Omega.
Wait for me mother, wait for me
until Spring arrives in the frozen land.
The architect of the infinite.
The shepherd of the stars.
Wait for me mother like the bird of the south
that alines sight and wing to find its heaven.
The ruler of Numbers.
The tamer of Signs.
Wait for me mother on a Friday
by the gates of heaven by the well of the abyss.
Near. The time is very near.
The One who is and who was and who is to come.
translated by George Pilitsis

162

CHARIOTEER

6u;y

Ot

; ;l u ij ;

'j ;u f ij.

: a~ :
fj yfj

: fj f]ovfj.
'/ ;l & ij &;;.

v u
: : fj

:
.
f 'j &. ;y ;l
[ u &vu 6; u.

i]

: :
fj.
[ ~u;, L . [
~ ~ f ~.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

163

HOLY TUESDAY
The kings indulged in fornication and the people of the
earth became intoxicated with the wine of fornication.
Under the banners of Rome
in Magdalene's tent
you, the father of forgiveness
and we, the children of pleasure.
Gloomy and moonless is the desire of sin.
A hoarse cry was heard
in the city's taverns
you, a lamb for slaughter
and we, the rams of sin.
The harlot mixed the precious myrrh with her tears
and poured it out on your sacred feet.
The Pilates didn't frighten you
nor did time that's at hand
you, in broad heaven
and we, the intruders of the earth.
I have come as a light into the world} so that whoever
believes in Me should not abide in darkness.
translated by George Pilitsis

164

CHARIOTEER

'j u opou - .
1
1t.
u yy
.
g . 'j pu..

61 .
1tfi ' 1 .

Tou

} ~ .

, , &.'j.

TIX

u.

~ &.'j.
y 1ty.
' 1y.
1 u
' u ;

. ! 'j ri t &p
. t p'j;;.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

165

HOLY WEDNESDAY
From the caves of the mountain came out the demons.

Wednesday of ashes and suffering

death has no past.
Wednesday of the souls and angels
death has also no future.
A sea of glass like crystal.

The pendulum of the universe strikes

wake up so that we may render honors.
The heavenly commanders have appeared
like the Gauls of dark Rubicon.
Faith, hope, love. These three. Love, the greatest
of all.

The earth's wounds took courage.

When will the sun light the fires
to burn Herod's palace
so that the flower of evil become a pomegranate?
Do all these things so that you may become blameless
and harmless in the midst of a corrupt and perverse
generation.
translated by George Pilitsis

166

CHARIOTEER

.. ..
. ty. u &J. .t . u u!..

rou f]
'
:

I
l ' r u
a : r I
. u . . . ..u yy.
~.

r ' :
~ l
: r S
: .
' yr
: a .

~u ) yij t. .u~~ ~ &Jq..

e r
ra
rou
c r ' .
u :
a y r.

f J .t .t f ~') u.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

167

HOLY THURSDAY
His works are true and His ways straight.

He who suspended the sun

in the hatch beam of heaven
is hung today upon a treeLord be merciful!
And in the furzes of the desert
a mother cried out: "my son" !
By way of the Tree the children of Adam became the
settlers of Paradise.

With April's ancient charms

with the demons' kiss
an owl came into the house
and a crow into the yard.
And all the wild beasts in the ravine
took off to Hades.
He came upon this earth to bear witness to the truth.

He who nailed the stars

on heaven's holy dome
again will sow summers
in the mind's bitter cold.
Then you and I, we and the rest
will be born again.
He is the life, the light and the peace of the world.
translated by George Pilitsis

168

CHARIOTEER

" f ij ;; ;.

: : ~

G

" . ; ;.
'
~
:

u


.

" f ij .; &.
.,
c
G u f)
d: c
:

.
" &l ;.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

169

HOLY FRIDAY
Worthy is He who suspended the earth on the waters.
I trudge along
in the dim light of the day
I bring you Spring lilies
and lay them on your crosstear-drenched friend
first among the first and foremost
first among the first and foremost.
Worthy is He who adorned the firmanent with clouds.
Time rolled away ailing
and the sun comes out crippled
like the swallow's wing
that time has maimedmost blessed friend
best of the best
best of the best.
Worthy is He who painted the earth with flowers.
Today Hades opened up
Calvary became a bridge
and on the banks of death
you follow a nameless pathYou, the near by and the far away
greatest of the great
greatest of the great
Worthy is the sacrificed lamb.
translated by George Pilitsis

170

CHARIOTEER

'1jl
" .
u
: ~ u

y.
& 1. ~ .
a' u u u
u f] u u

.

~ & .'1j f!y u. .

a
~a

, ~ .

' i. l f & f ij f &..

<)y ~ .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

171

HOLY SATURDAY
Remember!
Little by little everything ran dry.
The doves fly slow
over dried up lakes and wet marshes
over thirsty gardens and fields.
Remember the children God gave you.
Behind low hills
among prophets and insane men
three children stand aside
like seagulls on the sand.
The words that You spoke to us are spirit, and they are life.
Sun, in these ailing times
chase away the north and the north-eastern wind
and return to earth
with the cry of your triumph.
For You are the truth, the life and the resurrection.
The One who is and who was, and who is to come.
translated by George Pilitsis

172

CHARIOTEER

GLORIA AETERNA
'r r:

v :
l

6.
"

rou ~ .


u ~

: y.
' :
r :
a
l y .
6
6
.l r :

~ fl
rfl
:
rou .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

173

GLORIA AETERNA
Wherever we go
we carry memories
Athens and Rome
we're searching for you still.
White columns
black centuries
unbearable years
in a world where we found ourselves alone.
Hatred, discord
Troys fall
and you Babylon
a hollow drop.
Everything passes by
tell me where they're going
hell is empty
and around us darkness is growing.
The law is the law
terror is terror
and who can change
the world order.
My God, my Savior
I took your stars
to light your eternal glory
with rays of light.

translated by C. Capri-Karka and Ilona Karka

174

CHARIOTEER

~ ~

'ltil

:fi

.

'

l
.

f fj yc
fj

u l l

.

i]
u
i]

l i] .
r.' ~

~.

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

MANI EVENSONG
On the rock of Monemvasia
I too went into the chapel
to pay worship to its grace
and things long past came to mind
like a snake to an eagle's nest
like a ,snuffer to its candle.
Always in this world
Good Friday will come round
and someone will be crucified
so others might be saved.
On the Holy Virgin's Day
Constantes and Panourgias
and Nicaina their mother
who by saying and saying and saying again
amid storms and lightning flashes
like a she-wolf raised them up.
I want you to go at eventide
to the monastery at Deros
where Papanestes is cantor
and if the priest's wife asks
weep for the luckless children
and tell her the truth outright.
From the straits of Pasavas
King of the nether world.

175

176

CHARIOTEER

~ .

.. ...... .... .............. .....

~
'

~ v v

iJ

'y
.

e
v uv .

Selected Songs from Blow Breeze Blow Me

177

The terrible Nikliani1

And with a damascene sword

I cut the heavens in twain
that there may be a double paradise
one for Constantes
pledged to the church of Hypapante2
the other for his brother
the younger one Panourgias
who became ashes and rust
on his barren earth.
Always in this world
Good Friday will come round
and someone will be crucified
so others might be saved.

translated by David Connolly

1Nikliani (NtKAL<xvot), one of the two distinct social classes in Mani.

They were the members of large, old and powerful families with a
history of service to the country. In contrast, the Fameyi (<l>cq..tEytot)
were mostly immigrants, less powerful and less significant.
2A church named after the feast celebrating the presentation of the
Virgin Mary with Christ in the Temple of Jerusalem forty days after
His birth.

A GREAT POEM
(Only one)
Eleftherotypia, August 29, 1990
BY EUGENE ARANITSIS

translated by Margaret Polis

The sixth edition of Nikos Gatsos' Amorgos will be published in a few days by Ikaros Publishing, and today might be
an appropriate time to take another look at this work, in view
of the difficulties of the intervening decades. There is reason
to wonder why, until now, so little criticism has been written
about Gatsos. The most significant works of Greek literature
(the Third Wedding is another example) create a love-hate relationship with criticism; they lure it in a silent, almost hypodermic way, and at the end their legend becomes a presumption
that we are not going to deal officially with them, as if their
value is something so self-evident that one has nothing interesting to add. We may be sure that a book slightly more significant than anything the intellectual capacity of the critics can
handle would be met with puzzlement.
Until today, Gatsos has written only one work, which, beyond
its unquestionable value, has inherited an ever growing fame
for bearing the signature of someone who had a deep understanding of poetry but abandoned it in his youth, just like
Rimbaud. Why such a man would stop writing is a very exciting
subject; it excites the imagination of the literary public, which
always senses here a mystery, some distortion in the relation
between talent and career, a tendency toward arrogance and
self-destruction. Finally, the fact that a mature man abandons
his art, although knowing that his talent is not at all negligible,
constitutes (and rightly so) the source of the common belief
that he has already said it all or at least thought so.
It is logical! On the other hand, for some reason that cannot
be easily analyzed, the meaning of a work and its position in a
national literature are related to the stance of a writer with
178

A Great Poem (Only one)

179

respect to the fundamental questions of life; Cavafy proved

this when he imposed himself upon the establishment by simply
making others discover him. Gatsos suggested that we should
forget him. As he did not write anything else, it was as if with
Amorgos he indirectly expressed the notion about the nature
of a work of art that its core contains a seed of death. There is
always a hint of wisdom in the admission that all things have
a limit and therefore an end.
As the years went by, Gatsos must have felt the melancholy
of the undefined impulses of a talent that remained unused;
he must have felt, moreover, that poetry was not simply a
legitimately established Order of Logos, but a song that the
wind brings in through the window, and thus such a blessing
could possibly never be granted again. That is all! And perhaps
it is even more simple. If people asked me why Gatsos stopped
writing and publishing poems, I would dare to suggest that most
probably he grew tired of looking for the answer to the question
which creates poetry. He was extremely logical (in other words,
given the standards of our times, extremely pessimistic) and thus
he could not believe that there was still something more to
be said in the modes of expression known at this time.
Perhaps he continued to write within himself; I do not
know. Another answer I could possibly give (but this nobody
would easily accept) is that Gatsos has an extremely sharp and
critical mind, and very often this kind of gift becomes a rampart
of stubborness precluding the possibility of abandoning oneself
to the mercy of inspiration and to the almost adolescent peculiarities demanded by art. Good poetry often teaches people the idea
that it itself constitutes a lie. Gatsos rather lacked a child-like
element, the willingness to adopt the irrationalities of the poet
in a sufficiently naive and spontaneous manner. Had he not
lacked the tendency to be sufficiently misled to perceive poetry
as something eternal and self-consistent, he could have continued.
Thus Amorgos, like very few contemporary works, contains
a clear hint about the possibilities of the whole creative spectrum
of a writer's stance, from the possibility of writing the best that
can be written to the decision not to write any more. After that,
the songs set to music were for Gatsos an intentional parody of
the poems he never wrote, their ghosts, the delayed echo of a

180

THE CHARIOTEER

lyrical form of fairytale. Of all Greek poets, Gatsos is the one

who enjoyed himself the most with the uneasiness or the boredom caused by so-called serious subjects; above all he played
ambiguous games with the belief in himself. He must have been
born with an innate distrust for the image we all have; he knew
from the outset that the image does not reflect anything of a
man's conscience, his own included. This is the reason for his
haste to get away from literary activity, something equivalent to
denouncing it as an inadequate source of pleasure. He is perhaps
a man more dependent on the real characteristics of life than he
would be, were he to continue living as a poet.
What remains, of course, is the question of the pure literary
value of Amorgos, the problem of its interpretation. The magnetic power this poem exercises is due to its conscious sobriety.
There is no trace of drama, awe or preaching in Amorgos.
Gatsos is the only Greek poet who did not try, even for a moment,
to save the world with prayers. In Amorgos the world is what
it appears to be-made neither for joy nor for sorrow-just open
to man's tendency to capture images. It is man's fate to be victorious and defeated at the same time; man is one more being
among all the others and he can fight without losing the serenity
of the cycle of the seasons.
This innate distance from all poetic ideology (which is a
gift for Gatsos whereas for others who tried it, it proved to be
a disadvantage) makes the verses of Amorgos animated by an
invisible spiritual grace lighter than a breath; around the words
there is a sense that nothing in the world is so very evil or minute
as to be the object of Ethics or Psychology. The world is the
primary reflection of all events that comprise us whether we
understand them or not. For Gatsos, the law that governs the
relationships between things is the music that emanates from
them.
As for the form of Amorgos, it must have started as a
literary experiment. Flowing slowly in its veins is the blood of
many poets, with a constant alternation of temperatures, of
styles and of a blend of dead and living voices, which creates
the right conditions for small but discernible psychological vibrations. We have here a literary paradox: Amorgos, a poem with
an exceptional unity all its own, constitutes at the same time a

A Great Poem (Only one)

181

summary of the history of modern poetry. Its development starts

with echoes of the fifteen-syllable verse which is a natural disposition of the Greek language, but this is immediately followed
by pages about the mystery of nature in the style of Elytis'
Orientations, and even by pages whose purpose is elegance of
expression and which are darkened by the mist of Embirikos'
puristic language. A less skillful poet would have slipped, before
realizing it, into imitations. Gatsos has shown that poetry has
unity, that all styles are possible and that the meaning remains
the same but the form can be free within a variety of evolutionary
stages.
For all these reasons and a few more, Amorgos is a poem
that people will always read. I cannot say whether it is a perfect
work; it is, however, a work that includes some of the secret
of perfection and along with it the secret of the silence that
followed it.
I admit that these thoughts may seem fragmentary and
arbitrary, but I am afraid that there is no other way to approach
such a text.

NIKOS GATSOS' AMORGOS

T achydromosJ January 1, 1965
BY ALEXANDROS ARGYRIOU

translated by C. Capri-Karka

For twenty years now, the poet Nikos Gatsos has not published any original literary work. For this reason, he is better
known today for his translations of significant works of foreign
literature, the foremost being, perhaps, his translation of Lorca's
Blood Wedding. He is also known today to a more general public
as the writer of the lyrics of songs set to music by Hadjidakis
and Theodorakis. But this is an incomplete picture, to say the
least, of a man whose contribution to the development of our
modern poetic expression has been so positive, especially if we
take into consideration the fact that his rather small output of
work influenced later poets so much that, for a certain period,
poems were written in his manner, even though he himself, I
suppose, viewed his imitators with justifiable displeasure.
His single poetic collection was Amorgos, which was reprinted last year and was published for the first time in December 1943. After this publication, we have one more poem
with the title "Death and the Knight" in the journal Philologika
Khronika (it is included in Heraklis Apostolidis' Anthology).
There were also a few youthful verses published mainly in
Nea Estia (1931, 1932), but I doubt if the poet would want
them numbered among his achievements.
I believe that it is worth emphasizing an answer given by
Nikos Gatsos to a survey conducted by the journal Kalitekhnika
Nea (1944) on "Contemporary Poetic Movements," because in
it he showed exactly how he perceived, at an early stage, the poetic
phenomenon as an intellectual process outside of ideas and
preconceived notions, even if disinterested.
Gatsos was thirty two years old when he wrote Amorgos;
in other words, he was at the beginning of his mature years.
Thus the poem was not a youthful work but a mature product

182

Nikos Gatsos' Amorgos

183

of a conscious effort by a man well versed in the secrets of

poetic language.
Odysseus Elytis, who wrote a few words about Amorgos
one month after its publication, noted that the poem was written
according to the poetic principles of Breton and the philosophical
theories of Edmund Husserl, as expressed in his book Ideas of
Pure Phenomenology and Phenomenological Philosophy. He
added that an understanding of the book did not require any
knowledge of these theories-at least a free understanding of it.
Today, it seems difficult to state categorically that Amorgos is
written "following the recipe" of the philosophical school of
Husser! or his followers that led to existentialism. It would be
more logical and more consistent with the facts to say that
Gatsos was respectfully following the doctrines of Breton, which
were so vague that they could easily include both phenomenology
and psychoanalysis-a altra cosa-so that they could be obeyed
by a basically free poetic mind. One way or another, in poetry
ideas always come after they have lost their cold rigidity. They
are not even ideas. They are what we call: attitude toward life.
Looking today, twenty years later, at a poetic work, you are
necessarily influenced by the new criteria that have emerged, as
the poetic style has evolved in the mean time. I this seems at
first unfair, namely to judge something that belongs to another
climate in a way that does not correspond to it, it is also right
in the sense that this is the way in which one can determine
whether a work survives beyond its time. There is in intellectual
phenomena a different kind of justice, if we consider that the
works of art of the past that contributed significantly to the
opening of the horizons of an era can be comprehended later
on only historically, and we cannot communicate with the
emotions of their creator.
The blending of the folk song with surrealism attempted
by Nikos Gatsos already had a precedent, the similar efforts of
George Sarandaris. But this poet, whose premature death was
due to the hardships of the Albanian war, was less successful
poetically in applying this idea. Instead, Nikos Gatsos, with a
verse basically stark, free of sentimental overtones, finely blended
the austerity of the folk song with surrealistic symbolism.
Am orgos consists of six poems (one in prose form) . I we

184

THE CHARIOTEER

consider the whole book as a single poem, for there are no

titles for the individual parts, we must perceive it as written
as if it were a kind of musical symphony, since the tones and
the rhythms change from section to section. There is surely no
central vision in the poem nor can one discern on a second level
any framework. Such a thing would be, for example, an idea
or an emotional state which could possibly be the result of a
loss. Let us remember Seferis' M ythistorema in which, out of
the vagueness, the fragmentation and the alternation of the
tones, a sense of loss-some say the Asia Minor disaster-emerges
as a central idea. For Amorgos, one could suggest another
meaning of the synthetic poem, more fluid: the existence of
two or three psychological situations which appear, withdraw
and reappear. If I do not commit a serious violation by seeking
to touch a morsel of bread, beyond the phenomenological display of words and images, I would make the following remark:
already in the first part of the poem, the characteristics of Nikos
Gatsos' poetic style make their appearance. A psychological
state is developed, as the elements which constitute it are presented; one thing brings the next, one image leads to another
similar or opposite image and a complete circle of a certain mood
is created which is immediately destroyed, after a series of things,
and then we reach a new psychological "stance." From these
successive and antithetic elements a particular perception of things
emerges. A picture made of small pebbles like a mosaic, where
often the antithesis surprises giving us, as a result, a sense of
greater breadth and depth. The synthesis which results from the
variety and the . continuous juxtapositions gives the poem the
advantage of a variety of shades.
In the second section, the poem takes on the character of an
interpretation of life and a stoical vision of it.
In the branches of an ozier I see your childhood shirt drying
Take it, a flag of life to shroud death
And may your heart not be bowed
And may your tear not flow on this implacable earth
As the tear of the penguin flowed once on the frozen waste.
Complaining does not serve.

Nikos Gatsos' Amorgos

185

Life will be the same everywhere with the serpent's flute

in the land of the ghosts
With the song of brigands in fragrant woods
With the knife of suffering in the face of hope
With spring pinning deep in the screech owl's heart
It is enough for a plough to be found and a sharp sickle
in a blithe hand
It is enough for only a little wheat
To ripen for feasts a little wine for memory a little water
for the dust.
From this brief passage, the reader can appreciate the stark style
of the poet, and his superb imagination and see how, from
this accumulation of images, an emotionally correct climate
is created.
In the third part (six fifteen-syllable four-line stanzas) the
horizon turns dark. A grief, due to a reason we never learn
(and which thus becomes a grief deriving from many small
everyday disasters), at this point characterizes the poem, which
does not have any breath, any outlet. Especially with the repetition of the line "in the yards of the afflicted" the situation that
is revealed takes on the acuteness of despair. The images are
weighed down by the realization that an end has taken place.
Nothing remains but the faint hope that "the black sky will
glow:" From all the colors that the sky assumes, the choice of
"black" seems like its negation. What follows is the dissolution
of the verse, its dismantling.
The next part is written in prose. At this point, the fluid
poetic style appears as a quest for freedom, as a tendency toward
the rejection of grief. It corresponds to the psychological tendency
to seek consolation in the face of the inevitable. Hope, however,
becomes here a stronger demand. It expresses itself with the voice
that will come and "at all the crossroads they will light red
fires at midnight." The poet holds in his fingers "the music for
a better day." He has already offered us a way of perception.
Because "travellers from India can tell you more than all the
Byzantine chroniclers."
In the fifth section, wisdom and the interpretation of life
become objects of derision by the use of an ironical tone that

186

THE CHARIOTEER

is intensified by puristic language. By the use of high-sounding

expressions, "the resonant banalities of that kind"* are ridiculed.
The sixth and last part of the poem starts on an erotic note,
passes through an intermediate heroic phase and ends up in a
vaguely erotic climate again. This also constitutes the closing of
the poem, but I do not believe that the end defines the character
of the whole work. We do not need to assume that the whole
poem consists of the-even esoterically presented-account of
an erotic situation. It aims at much more. It has kept a distance
from whatever cause produced it, it has covered an extended
field where experiences took the form of a journey of the imagination among the things experienced; the memory was continuously
opening to the outside and from this broadening there emerged
a general vision of and an interaction with the phenomenon of
life. Amorgos is a kind of answer of the poet to the question
he seemed to pose to himself: what was his perception of the
world. There is a word that fits his stance: dignity. This is
what gives him the strength not to yield under the weight of a
suffering which becomes grief but does not lead to surrender;
which approaches a liberation without leading to resignation;
which looks beyond resignation; which sees (beyond the end)
the light of the event; which extracts from the matter its
spirituality.
Personally I consider Amorgos a book that was destined
to be followed by other works of Nikos Gatsos that would expand his poetic space and would make up a complete poetic life.
For reasons that we do not know, the poet remained silent. It
is a case analogous to that of Gryparis, who also published only
one poetic collection and then worked exclusively as a translator.
Perhaps he was afraid of repeating himself. I do not believe
that this is the case with Gatsos. Particularly because his horizons
were not limited, his tones were not repetitive. Yet, writing at
an age that was aiming at the exclusive and the absolute (a
strange compromise, one would say, by conventional logic) in
order to differentiate its position from the past, he remained,
with the conviction of the revolutionary, at the stage of prepara*Translator's note "Kal l!lA."A.a ~XTJPcX 'llap6[..Lma," the ironic ending of
Cavafy's "From the School of the Renowned Philosopher."

Nikos Gatsos' Amorgos

187

tion for another style, more intensely personal, more particular.

And it is precisely the original form of this style that he gave us
with Amorgos.
For this reason I think that Amorgos was a good book
twenty years ago when it gave Modern Greek poetry tones that
others had not provided, and revealed a poet with a great talent
and an intense personality. The tendencies and inclinations of
Nikos Gatsos' poetic art, although they did not find fertile
ground for fruition, definitely had their positive sides.

NIKOS GATSOS AND SURREALISM

One of five lectures on
Surrealism in Modern Greek Literature
December 1976
BY ALEXANDROS ARGYRIOU

translated by C. Capri-Karka

When in 1943 Amorgos was added to the body of Greek

surrealism, following-after a relatively long delay-the works
of Embirikos, Randos, Elytis, and Engonopoulos, its writer was
an unknown even to the most avid readers of poetry. No one,
certainly, could remember the few youthful, colorless and traditional-style poems that Gatsos had published in magazines between 1931 and 1933. Nor could his studies or his aesthetic
preferences be judged on the basis of the few pieces of criticism
that were published in various journals during the same period.
But even if someone chanced to remember Gatsos' youthful
poems, he certainly could not connect them with the advanced
surrealistic style of Amorgos.
In retrospect, we learn that those early poems had been
written by a student of literature at the University of Athens
and that the unknown (until 1943) Gatsos was one of the unpublicized contributors to the journal Na r patttta'Ta [New
Letters} (as Odysseus Elytis informs us 1), although there, too,
1See Open Papers, p.
303. In the preceding and the following pages
of the same essay, "The Chronicle of a Decade," many references are
made by Elytis to Gatsos.
Seferis also knew him, since 1936 at least. I quote the following
passage from Days, D, 1941-1944, the entry in Seferis' diary for October
26, 1941. (Within the generally gloomy climate of these pages, it is
good to see something humorous, since it also constitutes another kind
of "reading" and "interpretation" of a poem. I would remind the
reader that Seferis' poem "In the Manner of G.S." begins with the
line "Wherever I go, Greece keeps wounding me.") :
One day, Nikos Gatsos was involved in a misunderstanding. In the
winter of '36, he was returning home from a tavern. I was in Korytsa

188

Nikos Gatsos and Surrealism

1S9

his typical contribution is limited to a single short critical review.

A little later, a number of Lorca's works were published in
the following order (starting from June 1944): a translation by
Gatsos of one of Lorca's poems,2 a study of his work by Elytis
and a translation of one of his theatrical plays by George
Sevastikoglou. Of course, eleven years earlier, Nikos Kazantzakis
had translated a few contemporary Spanish poets, including
Lorca.3 I think, however, that it was only in 1944 that Lorca
can be considered to have entered the Greek literary scene, as
translations of his works then became numerous, indicating that
the approach to his work is not accidental and individual but a
conscious and collective act.
I do not know who should be considered to have discovered Lorca (discovered is used here in the meaning Seferis
and I had sent to him in Athens a manuscript of the poem "In the
Manner of G.S." Unfortunately-although very innocent, he sometimes
looked quite grim-he was arrested and taken to the police station. He
was searched. In his pocket they found the manuscript.
"Hey, what did Greece do to you that keeps wounding you? You
are a communist, aren't you?"
"But, officer, I didn't write this. It was written by Mr. Seferis
who is a consul.!"
"A consul? This is the kind of consul we have? No wonder we
are going from bad to worse."
Fortunately they also found in his pockets some other writings in
the same style, and this disarmed the guardians of our peace:
"We'll let you go," they told him when they had read them, "because you are stupid."
2Philologica Chronika, vol. 6-7, June 1944, pp. 325-328.
Note added in 1982. I found out, at a somewhat late stage, that
almost at the same time, Kleitos Kyrou had translated a section from
the Lament for Ignacio Sanchez Mejias, under the title "Departed Soul"
in the Thessaloniki journal Xekinima, vol. 9-10, July-August 1944,
p. 183. The entire poem, translated by Kleitos Kyrou, was published in
the first (and only) issue of the journal Phoenikas, July 1947, with the
note "Fall of 1946, Thessaloniki." Also, in collaboration with Manolis
Anagnostakis, Kleitos Kyrou translated the Two Odes of F. G. Lorca,
published in 1948.
3 Mitsos Papanikolaou also translated the Little Viennese TVttltz
and published it in Neoellinika Grammata, September 21, 1940, with
a very short informative comment on Lorca. It was republished in: Mitsos
Papanikolaou, Translations, Tasos Korfis ( ed.), Diagonios Editions, 1968.

190

THE CHARIOTEER

uses when he writes that it was George Theotokas who "discovered Syngrou Avenue"). Formally Gatsos comes first in the
second and main phase; but the differences in time are very
small (as is our country, to quote Seferis). The fact is,
however, that Gatsos' translation of the Nocturnal Song
(Romance Sonambulo) was really a re-creation. Similarly, his
subsequent translations of Lorca' s theatrical plays demonstrated
the highly sensitive way in which Gatsos was able to approach
the foreign text and transfer its vibrancy to another language.
After all that (and because of it), one has the right to
ask oneself (with good intention or with slyness) whether the
principles of Amorgos led to the love of Lorca or whether Lorca
led to the writing of Amorgos. According to my estimation,
there are analogies such as the appreciation of the folk tradition, but I do not find any affinities between the poetic styles
of Lorca and Gatsos.
If we believe Elytis' writing in 1943, Amorgos is a poem
"written according to the poetic principles of the school of
Andre Breton and the philosophical theories of Husserl [ ... J.
However, it has the great advantage that it does not require any
knowledge of these theories, at least for a free understanding."
Andreas Karandonis writes at about the same time: "With the
awesome Amorgos of Gatsos, whose imagery somewhat unusually
combines serious imagination with fire-tested spirituality, contemporary Greek poetry, acquiring the linguistic breath that it
was lacking, is colored in a fascinating way with the inspiring
and familiar hues of the living poetic tradition."
If, however, Elytis and Karandonis express themselves in
this manner because they are fellow travellers of Gatsos, an
older writer, Takis Papatzonis, confesses that with Amorgos he
experienced "the Great Unexpected."
After Amorgos, Gatsos published two more short poems in
two magazines and two decades later, specifically in T achydromos
(November 2, 1963), he published in metric verse the poem
"Song of Old Times," dedicated "to George Seferis" which
was supposed to be included (but arrived too late) in the special
volume dedicated to the poet on the occasion of the thirtieth anniversary of the Turning Point, one year before he was awarded
the Nobel Prize.

Nikos Gatsos and Surrealism

191

Apart from his small poetic and his big translation output
(I compare them in terms of volume), Nikos Gatsos also published two theoretical essays: an article answering the survey
taken by the journal Kallitechnika N ea, in which he supported
with particular acuteness the autonomy of the artistic phenomenon, and another in Elefthera Grammata about Paul Valery.
Yet, it is incredible how much his work, though small in
volume, has influenced a significant number of younger poets,
and not only of the second and third rank. I do not think that
the reason Gatsos' poetry had so much appeal was due as much
to the blending of surrealism with the tones of the folk song
as to the fact that, in the final analysis, his style, through the surrealistic excesses of expression, while preserving a logic that
obeyed an emotional restraint, conveyed warm human tones. If
one takes into account the particular time that the poem was
published (the penultimate year of the German occupation)
with a resistance movement on the rise (and with the Nazis and
their Greek collaborators in competition for executions), one can
understand why the "heroic and funereal" element of the poem
seemed-probably regardless of Gatsos' intentions and his aesthetic theories-to represent and convey the spirit of the times.
Such an extension could perhaps be considered as attempting
a false interpretation of the poem; however, perhaps even when
a work of art is written against the current of its time, it may
ultimately not be able to avoid expressing it, because the sensitive antennae of a poet capture even that which he himself does
not intend to receive. Besides, a poetic work is basically a text
that has an existence independent of its creator and contains as
many possible readings as it itself permits and legitimizes.

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192

ONE-FINGER MELODIES FOR NIKOS GATSOS 1

BY ODYSSEUS ELYTIS

translated by David Connotly

However you might try, Nikos Gatsos simply won't be pinned

down. He is always present without being at all concerned about
the present, and with a slightly demonic magnetic force, he continues to exert an influence over all the particles that move within
the sphere of Greek cultural life. The distinctive shape he took
and which he has maintained with admirable consistency right
up to the present enables him to practise poetry not so much
with words but rather with a magical persuasiveness that alters
the reality around him, just as with that mysterious Jacques
Vache, in whom the egg of modern poetry incubated for a
lengthy period before it was cracked open by Andre Breton
and friends.
Even in the history of Greek literature it's hard to know
just where to place Nikos Gatsos. He epitomizes it in its entirety, through having so absorbed it, yet there is always something more. It is that little superiority that bothers us, like the
athlete that lets us beat him, for no other reason than out of
sheer generosity. Literally and metaphorically, take note: for this
is his main characteristic. He throws out of the window (just like
that, for the joy of the unselfish gesture) talents that others
would invest and live on the interest for the rest of their lives.
Yet he has never been able to see life as anything but a game:
a tragic game, perhaps, and pointless, but still a game. And he
goes on gambling with the certainty that he will lose (even
though he holds all the aces) , aiming at a different form of
satisfaction: to chance his luck not only in the combination of
words but also in the combination of emotional states that unl"Skopi sto ena daktylo yia ton Niko Gatso" in En Lefko (Carte Blanche),
Athens, Ikaros 1992, pp. 295301. First published in I Lexi 52, Feb. 1986,
pp. 92-96.

193

194

CHARIOTEER

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One-Finger Melodies for Nikos Gatsos

195

fold on a second or third level and remain forever concealed

from the others.
His tendency to concealment is at once a trap and a form
of defence. By the time you realise-in trying to approach him
on a deeper level-that you're on the wrong track, you've
already become a captive. We are, all of us, captives in the light
of the great, the terrifying perception that he possesses. And
this is his second characteristic feature. For his disadvantage-if
that's how you want to see it-in comparison with those of us
who have written five or ten works is not that he has only
written one or two: it's that he didn't have our "capacity for
self-delusion" to write more. His great perception, illuminating
as it does so vividly his visual field, renders even more discernible
the limits that man must never go beyond. And the poet's
Paradise, consisting of pointed truths and perfections, alas, lies
beyond. This is the Paradise that we once set out to attain.
During those years, Athens had neither water nor free
education. Yet it had a Fokionos Negri Street in an unspoilt
state with numerous sounds of water and numerous hidden areas
of greenery. It was there, a little after midnight, that you could
meet Nikos Gatsos and stroll with him, talking about poetry,
until the morning. Needless to say that if it was Saturday, he was
already into Monday. He had come to us, eighteen years old
from Asea in Arcadia, so inexplicably ready: fully equipped,
with Eliot and Lorca, Kafka and Sartre. And this is not to mention, of course, the folk tradition, which flowed in his blood
and throbbed behind his every judgement, his every reaction,
provided that you pressed the button at the right moment. It's
impossible to recount the limitless number of cigarettes and cups of
coffee consumed later, a little further on, at the end of Spetson
Street where he had his small apartment, or how many exhausting all-night discussions took place, one after the other, during
the years of the 4th of August Dictatorship and the German

196

CHARIOTEER

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One-Finger Melodies for Nikos Gatsos

197

Occupation and the Civil War, with a continual stream of exponents of Solomos, Cavafy, Valery and Eluard. Perhaps, without that band of impassioned young men, who measured their
passion for poetry in the goldsmith's scales and not those of
political expediency, the modern poetry movement would never
have grown to the extent that we know and never have secretly
become linked with the underground veins running through
tradition and which brought to the surface images of the collective unconscious, Peloponnesian, Aegean, Macedonian, unknown to foreign colleagues with the uniform types of cultural
heritage-only five or six centuries old-that they possessed.
It seems that you have to keep poetry at a distance if you
want to see it coming towards you of its own accord, like cats
or like women. Of course, those "literary animals" dive in head
first and can't stop licking their lips. Yet it is doubtful if a
chemist would ever discover the divine bug in their saliva. The
truth (or the reality?) is always to be found at a distance from
the meaning, just as the magic is always to be found at a distance
from each written text that expresses it.
Somewhere there, in just such a way of thinking (which
you either suspect, and then you are able to produce, even from
blue and yellow, the green you require, or otherwise you remain
forever outside the game), Nikos Gatsos and I met some half
a century ago.
Until today, the colours haven't faded.
Apart from the toil for his daily bread, there are times,
strangely enough, when man insists on toiling for something
more. The less necessary the reason seems to be that motivates
him, the more incomprehensible we find this phenomenon. Yet
this is, perhaps, the sole characteristic feature of his noble nature.
I've seen Nikos Gatsos cause theatre premieres to be postponed and sit up all night for the sake of one word; not even
a word in a poem, but in a simple theatrical dialogue, destined

198

CHARIOTBER

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One-Finger Melodies for Nikos Gatsos

199

to last a few seconds. What does such a form of perseverence

mean? Conscientiousness? Fastidiousness ? Sense of responsibility?
Mania for perfection?
Examine the work of Dionysios Solomos if you want to
discover the secret. And if you want to explain his small output.
Personally, I've come to the conclusion for some time now
that there is no such thing as poetic talent; there is simply "a
right sense of the poetical." There is no such thing as knowledge of language; there is "a right sense of language." So, can
we judge Nikos Gatsos from Amorgos and his translations?
And yet, if some sorceror could implant in all modern Greeks
a sense of what "can be said" and what "can't be said," as appears from this small poetic work, together with what can pass
and can't pass into the Greek language, as appears from the
poetic works that he has translated, we would see what and
how great his contribution actually is. While we had to learn
the demotic language and tradition, slowly and at great pains,
he discovered it ready within him, together with the songs of
his ancestors; he assimilated it together with "his mother's milk"
as Solomos would say. Even in the lyrics that he wrote in order
to earn a living (but also because he prefers the humble art
that functions to the high art that gathers dust on the shelves) ,
his virtues appear, more often than not, virtually intact, allowing for the difference in scale. And allow me to say that some
of the lyrics he wrote for Mythologia with music by Manos
Hadjidakis, or for Drosoulites with music by Christodoulos
Halaris and, more recently, for Rebetiko with music by Stavros
Xarhakos easily surpass some of our more grandiose modern
poetic works and go to show what is meant by the virility of
the folk tradition, the organic function of rhyme, the ethos of
the Greek language.
When you don't count in terms of beans, the analogies of
the world appear different, if not-ostensibly at least-turned

200

CHARIOTEER

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One-Finger Melodies for Nikos Gatsos

201

upside down. Whoever is familiar with what is elusive is not

surprised. He considers such a reality to be natural and moves
in it with ease. For years now, Nikos Gatsos has been doing
just this. He has never tried to correct himself, by which I mean
to get rid of logically incomprehensible habits or practices in
order to bring himself into line with what constitutes the "common view." And fortunately so. Millions of men of genius lose
their identity "en route." Why? To avoid being characterized
unfavourably by the ignorant, is it worth laying your genius at
their feet? And after all, what kind of genius ? Here, we're
talking about poetic genius, which puts to flight the whole of
the middle classes and also a section of the revolutionaries, who
have burned everything but their priggishness, even if they think
that they've discarded it together with their wretched ties.
A way of talking about the past without becoming suspected of nostalgia has still not been found. Nevertheless, it's
one thing to burden yourself with time and carry it about together with your wrinkles and another to move back and forth
within it with the ease that only poetry can provide.
If we continue to remain alive, it is, I believe, by virtue
of arranging certain moments that we subconsciously select and
reconnect, thereby creating a second current, where decay doesn't
progress and stones gather no moss. From this point of view, I
return my wrinkles and keep my soul at the end of a line of
verse or of a melody or of a girl's bright smile.
I associated myself and journeyed together with Nikos
Gatsos, because, behind the smiles and the melodies, he too had
heard the voice that proclaims on the eve of death and above
the storm.

THE CASE OF NIKOS GATSOS

BY DIMITRIS

I.

KARAMVALIS

translated by Ilona Karka

The case of Nikos Gatsos is certainly an exception in the

area of Greek poetry, since the poet, being the writer of a single
poetic collection (Am orgos, Athens, 1943), has succeeded, even
up to today, in influencing so many poets and, at the same
time, in breaking down the boundaries and dispelling the differences that existed between poetry and the writing of lyrics.
In writing the lyrics for songs (which were set to music by
famous composers, including Manos Hadjidakis), he did not
depart at all from the rules of poetry, since these verses transcend time, but they are also moving and they express the
poetic ethos and, more generally, a stand toward life.
Amorgos, published in the unpropitious years of the German occupation, contains in condensed form the course of man's
life, particularly that of a Greek, who, being enslaved, is seeking a compass, something to hold on to, a new code; and
Gatsos, profoundly influenced by our folk song, which he reshapes and enriches with new elements and experiences, presents
a condensed work, which he could have expanded into several
books of poetry, analyzing each element. Yet, he prefers to
condense and to overwhelm the reader with successive waves
of boats, bells, summer fields, "serpents' flutes," "hopes of
crickets" and a multitude of poetic images, an alternation of
colors and shades, feelings and emotions. At any rate, the lyricwriter Gatsos has his orientation in Amorgos, just as the later
work of Elytis has the roots of its thematic material in
Orientations (1939).
But are not his excellent translations, such as his translation of Frederico Garcia Lorca's Blood Wedding, also poetry
(actually poetry twice over) ?
Amorgos was published at a difficult historical turningpoint for Greece and for the whole world, when man and his
202

The Case of Nikos Gatsos

203

age-old values were tested. Gatsos, taking several elements from

surrealism, succeeds in putting them into the melting pot of
the Greek folk song and in creating an entirely different and
distinctive blend. He thus constitutes one of the exceptions to
what usually happens, particularly in Greece, where every foreign movement and style is assimilated without being elaborated
upon; the result, of course, is something entirely inaccessible
and impersonal, a work without the spark, the spirit and the
passion of its creator. These three element-words, characteristic
manifestations of Greekness, which are absent from the dictionaries of other languages-"To !1EPcXKL," "To qnA.6n11o"
and "To KE.qn" -are keys for Gatsos, who found his own way
in his effort to express his lyricism in a manner different from
those existing until then.
The poetry of Nikos Gatsos conveys a brave attitude and
a courageous way of facing life in spite of its many adversities.
Although he suffers and grieves over the hardships of life it is
here precisely that his skill lies: his poetry is human, like the
poetry of the folk song, in contrast to the superhuman and
overpowering element of the "akritic" epics. Somebody once
said: "Poetry is painting with words." This is exactly the poetry
of Nikos Gatsos, in which numerous images with the most
lively colors and landscapes are displayed before the eyes of
the reader and are so lively and so vivid that no great effort is
needed to grasp them:
And so in a deep jar the grape dries
In the belfry of a fig tree the apple ripens
So with a gaudy necktie
Summer breathes under the tent of the vine.
But messages of freedom for enslaved Greece are also
numerous in this poetic collection, in which the poet cries out
"Do not become FATE," in other words do not remain passively indifferent but turn your eyes toward the sea, which
means toward the struggle for freedom and justice
But seaweed eyes are turned to the sea.

204

THE CHARIOTEER

Manos Hadjidakis, on the occasion of the recent award

given to the poet by the municipality of Athens, said: "A
book of twenty pages which, however, could be made to contain an astonishing poetic transcription of our modern Greek
history unique in dramatic lyricism and close adherence to the
living tradition of our country." These words are absolutely
correct: an original, landmark-book, which really has so much
to say. Gatsos, using names and characteristic events of Greek
history (we should recall here that the book has as a frontispiece
the words of Heraclitus "Bad witnesses are eyes and ears to
men if they have barbarian souls") concludes his Amorgos by
urging the children to return to the roots of history and to be
baptized in the spring water of Greek civilization:
Perhaps children remembrance of ancestors is a deeper
solace and more precious company than a handful of
rosewater and the intoxication of beauty no different
from the sleeping rosebush of the Evrotas.
The whole poem is divided into six parts, which, at the
same time, are to be understood as a unified text. We should
also note that it has certainly been influenced by the whole
climate and poetic atmosphere of Lorca. Gatsos' poetry is evocative. It makes you feel reborn again, it purifies you through
"a river of tears." For this reason it is true poetry which includes the element of pain, even if "In the yards of the
afflicted black grass grows," because in the end there will come
the reward and justification from nature itself: "a kiss from the
foam-decked sea."
Many poets imitated him, some copied him. However, they
could not convey the outburst of emotion of Am orgos, the
lyricism, the sensitivity, the revelation of poetry itself. Fortyfive whole years have passed and yet Nikos Gatsos' poetry
succeeds in transcending its time and in being loved by two
generations; and it is certain that it will continue to do so,
since genuine lyricism and clarity know no time limits.
The erotic element exists in Amorgos without high-sounding words or extremes, preserving in its simplicity all of its
greatness and beauty and taking elements of nature, such as

The Case of Nikos Gatsos

205

the moon with the deeply romantic disposition and musing it

evokes, and the explosion of the volcano, the celebration and
apotheosis of life during the summer:
How very much I loved you I alone know
I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades
And with the mane of the moon I embraced you and we
danced on the summer plains ...
There are also specific references to the Germans, the
oppressors of the country. Gatsos does not hesitate to tell the
truth, using the style and manner of the folk song:
This dust in the air is the echo of what conflagration?
Is it Kalyvas fighting or is Levendoyiannis?
Have the Germans joined battle with the Maniates?
As mentioned before, the poem is divided into various
units. Thus, in the first part of Amorgos the poet talks to us
about the shipwrecked sailors who "slept calm as dead wild
beasts" and he may be referring here to the enslaved Greeks
who are suffering under the German yoke; but he also conveys
the message of rising up against tyranny with the words "let
birds flutter in the masts of the lemon tree" (here the lemon
tree becomes a symbol of freedom) . In the second paragraph
of the same section there is a reference to "the yataghan of
Kolokotronis" and to "banners," as well as to the brave young
men who are called upon to fight and not to compromise:
Do not become FATE
Because the golden eagle is not a closed drawer.
In the second part the climate becomes erotic with intense outbursts of a rather surrealistic nature, as well as an
appeal to a young woman to take her "childhood shirt" and
make it "a flag of life to shroud death." Here this may again
mean Greece itself, personified by the beautiful young woman,
because here again there is a message for an uprising and a

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THE CHARIOTEER

rebirth: "it is enough for a plough to be found and a sharp

sickle."
The third part consists of six four-line stanzas written in
fifteen-syllable verses (another influence of the folk song on
Gatsos) where from within "the yards of the afflicted" we
observe the union of nature and soul, since "night does not
fade" and "black grass grows" and "the eye has run dry" and
the burden now falls on "the leaves" that "vomit a river of
tears" (how intensely lyrical is this line with its surrealistic
overtones). Yet, in spite of the heavy and quite pessimistic
atmosphere, there is an anticipation of lightning in the black

sky:
Only be patient a moment for the healing rue to open
For the black sky to glow for the mullein to flower.
In the last line we see the intense influence of Solomos.
The third part of this composite poem closes with a disappointment: "it was a wind that has gone a lark that has
flown."
In the fourth part of Amorgos the style changes, as we
now have a lyrical prose style, something like a prose-song.
The great role of Greece in the universal firmament is stressed,
as one is presented with the symbol of an "immortal stone that a
passing human angel once wrote his name upon." It ends by
reminding the young of the formidable obligation and heritage
of the Greek nation:
Perhaps children remembrance of ancestors is a deeper
solace and more precious company than a handful of
rosewater and the intoxication of beauty no different
from the sleeping rosebush of the Evrotas.
We also encounter similar hints in the poetic work of George
Sarandaris, expressed, however, in a more lyrical manner and
in a different (perhaps romantic) dimension related actually
to that of Andreas Kalvos, something that Sarandaris himself
has admitted.

The Case of Nikos Gatsos

207

In the fifth part (the part with the fewest lines in this
poetic sequence) the character of the work changes and becomes more aphoristic, as the language also changes to puristic.
This language has been used widely, as is well known, by the
surrealists in an intensely ironic mood. Let us remember, for
instance, the definition of poetry according to Andreas Embirikos: "Poetry is the development of a shining bicycle." This part
is about the formulation of some thoughts as a kind of account
of the nature and purpose of life, something like an intentional
interlude, like a parenthesis.
In the sixth and last part the poet uses deeply erotic expressions while at the same time making references to history,
writing about the "lost Saint Sophia," about the brave young
men, about "Kalyvas and Levendoyiannis," wondering whether
they are fighting. He ends addressing Greece itself, which takes
the form of "a flowering quince tree" or "a hyacinth from an
orange tree" and for which he "strove, year after year with
ink and hammer," so as to be able to convey something of its
brightness; and which, as the poem is being written (1943),
is "a vast black sea with so many pebbles round your neck so
many coloured gems in your hair."
In his Open Papers (Ikaros, Athens, 1982), Elytis was to
say about Amorgos: "It was a nail in the eyes of the rationalists
whose fate seems to be to ignore the direct communication of
beauty with the moral world." A little further on he reveals
to us that "Nikos Gatsos had never lived on an island when
he gave his poetic work the title Amorgos" (pp. 289 and 291).
We must note that Amorgos met with a lot of animosity
and passionate opposition from the critics of the time, something which, for that matter, always happens with great works
of art, the original ones, the ones that advance art, that stir
the stagnant waters and, of course, the works of the surrealists
that incite a rebellion in life. The poetic coordinates of this
poem are within the views and the whole climate of the French
surrealist Andre Breton. However, one can also find in the
poem other ideas of related tendencies. Moreover, it succeeds
(and this is a significant achievement for the Greek space) in
reinforcing the position that the lyrical vibrations of poetry do
not occur only in rhyme; free verse, when well worked out,

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THE CHARIOTEER

can convey a musical sens1t1v1ty of the same degree and even

express much more, because it is not confined by the number
of syllables and external resonance.
With his Amorgos, Nikos Gatsos tried to present his own
view about life and about man, at a time when he had certainly not yet been integrated as a poet and as a man, since
he wrote it when he was only thirty-two years old, with the
fervor and liveliness of a young intellectual anguished about
the future of his country and the whole world (hence Amorgos
conveys messages with a universal character and mission) ; yet,
it does not have the maturity of the work of a writer with a
few decades behind him. Also, it presents a logical inconsistency and a break in continuity from one part to another;
however, from another point of view, this may be an advantage
in the work. Anyway, one can discern the same quality and
clarity of his poetry in the lyrics of the songs that were set
to music.
These verses, intensely erotic, express the longings and
desires of simple people; they have popularity but not populism.
They express the people as a whole, but not the masses. And
the people, with their infallible instinct and judgement, loved
and sang the lyrics of Nikos Gatsos, who, being a master of
the secrets of poetry, rendered simple events with lyrical shades,
giving them a meaning that transcends time. The appeal to
the beloved not to delay going to the prearranged meeting
("do not be late to appear in the sky my flower I my golden
little angel"); the heartbreaking rejection of the feelings of
the other ("Don't knock on my door at midnight I don't talk
to me, I can't hear you I If you love me I don't come back I
let me keep pain as my companion"); the song for the "tearful, sorrowful eyes" and the suggestion that "without love and
pain nobody can live"; the very lyrical "A Holy Virgin" ("A
Holy Virgin I a love I've sealed I in a lonely chapel I far away")
of which Odysseus Elytis has written in his "Young Sailor"
that it is his favorite song; the hymn to Athens (the old one of
the 50s to 60s, of course) which he calls "joy of the earth and
of the dawn I little blue lily"; Greece itself that travels ("With
Greece as its skipper I a frigate sails to Misiri") spreading its
civilization everywhere (the meaning of the ship is meta-

The Case of Nikos Gatsos

209

phorical) ; the famous song about the moon ("A moon

made of paper I a seashore that's unreal I if you believed
in me a little I it would all come true") with the masterful
blending of poetry and music by Manos Hadjidakis; the very
lyrical "Elf" ("Now I'll light a fire I in the cypresses of the
North I and in the highest peak I I'll have you like a mother
and a sister"); the song "If you thirst for water" ("It was
the face of May, the white of the moon I a light tread like a
frisking of the plain") ; the last two lines also appear in
Amorgos (the only change is that the word "was" becomes
"a"), as well as the two preceding lines: "and if you thirst
for water we will squeeze a cloud I and if you hunger for
bread we will slaughter a nightingale."
The third edition of Amorgos, published in 1969, also
includes the "Elegy" (1946) and "Death and the Knight" (one
year later), as well as his last poem, written in 1963, with
the title "Song of Old Times," which is dedicated to George
Seferis, perhaps on the occasion of the awarding of the Nobel
Prize to the Greek poet. It is also appropriate to quote the
opinion of D. Daskalopoulos (Papyrus-Larousse-Brittanica, Vol.
17, p. 452):
We can say that Amorgos closes and completes the
first cycle of the Greek surrealism which had started
with Nikitas Randos, the early Elytis, Embirikos and
Engonopoulos. Also, of course, we should emphasize
that the integrity of the poet is well known and characterizes him as a poet, as well as a man; moreover,
we know how difficult this harmonious coexistence
becomes in our days.
The poetry of Nikos Gatsos, to conclude our wandering
in this enchanting world, is "the sound of a church bell travelling
in the stars I So many centuries gone I From the soul of the
Goths and from the domes of Baltimore I And from the great
monastery of lost Saint Sophia."

From CONTEMPORARY GREEK POETRY*

BY ANDREAS I<ARANDONIS

translated by C. Capri-Karka

The circle of poets who identified their personality and

their poetic methodology, wholly or partly, with surrealism,
spontaneous writing and the particular aesthetic atmosphere
which every spontaneous writing creates, is completed with the
unexpected and somewhat delayed appearance of a "ready-made
poet," Nikos Gatsos. The poets we have commented on all
follow a course divided into phases. The literary course of
Gatsos is summed up in a single episode, that of the poetic
collection Amorgos. Published in 1943, during one of the
darkest hours of slavery, it literally surprised "well informed"
poetic circles and exercized an instant influence on the young
people who were at that time trying their hand at the new
styles and who wanted to express the tragic atmosphere of the
German occupation along with a spirit of heroism and resistance.
In these circles, Amorgos was read, commented upon, circulated,
scrutinized, idealized and misunderstood, perhaps as no other
modern poem. So much so that a young philosopher wrote
a study-never published, as far as we know-trying to provide a
logical explanation, word by word and image by image, of a
text emerging directly from the subconscious. This fact and
other similar ones demonstrate that this text had an exceptional
poetic form and an intense and genuine poetic quality. Usually
the poetry that reaches us is the magic trap that captivates our
thought and forces it to seek patterns and forms of interpretation.
Behind the episode of Amorgos, let us look for a strange
kind of story: in this poem, Gatsos is the harvester of rich
crops who knew himself neither whether he had planted them,
nor when or where he had planted them. Yet, the ground that
*This essay is part of the author's book Introduction to Modern PoetryContemporary Greek Poetry (D. N. Papadimas Editions, Athens, 1978}.
It first appeared in 1958.

210

From Contemporary Greek Poetry

211

received this mysterious seed was his deepest literary self, a

subterranean and porous self, perhaps the richest subconscious,
from the linguistic point of view, among the poets we are
discussing. He was the "unknown Gatsos" -in other words
Amorgos-an original poetic and intellectual idiosyncracy that
happened to have, from the very beginning, deep Greek roots,
country, rural, demotic roots. Born in the countryside around
Tripolis, he spent his school, adolescent, and university years
in a "magic communion," one would say, with Greek poetry,
the folk song, Solomos, Palamas, Sikelianos-with the whole
demotic culture. Introverted in character, silent, outwardly almost still and impassive, he was gathering, treasuring and reflecting more than expressing himself. He was a blend of some
definite but at the same time vague promises and possibilities. His
inner restlessness led him to foreign literatures, which he assimilated thoroughly, hellenizing them within himself. With
his lively instinct reinforced by the presence and the company
of Seferis and Elytis, Embirikos and Engonopoulos, he also
approached modern poetry, but in his own way, in other words,
without the dogmas and without the fanaticism of the newly
converted. He was very well aware, not only in theory but
also in practice, of the "verse," the verse of Palamas, let us
say, but he understood that this manner, as a method of poetic
creation, had run its course. Thus he found himself walking
the streets of modern art. If this did not happen earlier, if Gatsos
was the last, chronologically speaking, of the group, it is
because he was probably prevented by some natural but very
deliberate distrust of everything, or, perhaps, by some lack of
will, or even by an awareness of the futility of publishing or
writing verses. He lived poetry deeply and organically but he
was not conscious of the need or the ambition to write poetry
himself, to create it, until his "conversion" to spontaneous writing liberated him from all adversities and restrictions and revealed him to us as he appeared in Amorgos. Here is one more
case where the influence of surrealism had beneficial effects,
and for such instances, as well as many other reasons, we should
be indebted to Andre Breton and his aphorisms.
From the point of view of our poetry, was it chance or
necessity that made Amorgos emerge from within the self-

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THE CHARIOTEER

ignoring Gatsos? We believe it was both, since in our life, the

good works of chance we register, in retrospect, as necessities.
Therefore it was primarily chance, because in reality Gatsos
wrote it "accidentally," in one night, taking up the magic wand
of surrealism, perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps in order to have
fun. With this wand he randomly struck his fertile and pregnant entrails, his inner, porous self. And out of his old silence,
a rich phrasal and linguistic rhythm sprang up, a warm and
almost mystical material of hidden lyricism was put together
in new images; a new sound deep in tone, we would say, was
heard in the concert of the crystalline sounds of Elytis and
Embirikos and the disrupting hammerings of Engonopoulos'
Zef:
Cast away the dead said Heraclitus and he saw heaven
blench
He saw in the mud two small cyclamen kissing
And he too fell down to kiss his dead body
in the hospitable earth
As the wolf comes down from the forests to see the dead dog
and to bewail
What use to me is the drop shining on your brow?
I know the thunderbolt wrote its name on your lips
I know an eagle built its nest in your eyes
But here on this watery bank there is one road only
One deceiving road only and you must cross it
You must plunge into blood before time overtakes you
And go across to the other side to find your companions
again
Flowers birds deer
To find another sea another gentleness
To seize Achilles' horses by the reins
Rather than sit mutely rebuking the river
Stoning the river as did Kitsos' mother
Because you too will have been lost and your beauty will have
aged
In the branches of an ozier I see
your childhood shirt drying

From Contemporary Greek Poetry

213

Take it, a flag of life to shroud death

And may your heart not be bowed
And may your tear not flow on this implacable earth
As the tear of the penguin flowed once
on the frozen waste
Complaining does not serve.
Life will be the same everywhere with the serpents' flute
in the land of ghosts
With the song of brigands in fragrant woods
With the knife of suffering in the face of hope
With spring pining deep in the screech owl's heart
It is enough for a plough to be found and a sharp
sickle in a blithe hand
It is enough for only a little wheat
To ripen for feasts a little wine for memory a little water
for the dust.
From this passage, as well as from the text as a whole,
it is obvious that Amorgos, although "accidental," nevertheless
met a literary, an aesthetic need in the area of modern poetry:
the need to enrich and to reestablish "demoticism" devoid of
the linguistic excesses of ritualistic lyricism and adjusted to the
natural tone and manner of demotic speech, yet retaining the
freshness, the greenness and the subtle waving of the language
of our folk songs. Seferis, too, was aiming at a "natural demotic"
and he was the first to achieve it in the manner we know, but
Gatsos, in a way, supplements him, or rather covers an aspect
that remained extraneous to Seferis' aims: the aspect of the,
as it were, "juicy" linguistic style. Seferis did not want to use
this "juicy" style at all, because, reacting to traditional linguistic excesses, he pursued an absolute, an ideal, a tyrannical
simplicity, which of necessity will also be linguistic:
I want no more than to speak simply, to be granted that grace
because we've loaded even our songs with so much music
that they are slowly sinking
and we've decorated our art so much that its features
have been eaten away by gold.

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THE CHARIOTEER

Naturally, Gatsos did not restore the heavy gold to the

face of poetry, but there come moments when one feels the
need for some linguistic coolness, for that downy softness of
words which caress us or run inside us like drops of water.
We have acquired this habit from the folk song, from Kornaros,
from Solomos, from the better Palamas and Sikelianos. We
acquired it and continued it also from Seferis' Turning Point.
Gatsos gave it back to us clarified. This means that we should
not lose it again for any reason. What we call "a sense
of the language" -meaning, of course, our language-is inseparable from a sense of poetry. There is also, certainly,
the sense of the bilingual (puristic and demotic) poetics of
Cavafy. This, however, did not help anybody but Cavafy himself. Whoever imitated it lost his voice to Cavafy. Seferis, who
was a professed and careful student of Cavafy, sensed this
and did not, even for a moment, let his voice assume the manner of Cavafian bilingualism. On the contrary, he realized that
his duty was to help our linguistic tradition rediscover more
natural and more viable ways of expression. Seferis' example
was completed and enriched by Gatsos, who gave it vivid shades
of a "lyrical demotic" language with unified, clear, popular
aesthetics. In general, the demotic language and the linguistic
purity of Seferis and also of Gatsos meet the highest standards
of our contemporary demotic language.
However, this is not the only reason why Amorgos fascinated and directly influenced younger writers. In this poem,
the demotic element is not only verbal and linguistic. It reaches
deeper into Greek life. It comes from roots and insticts which,
once stirred up within ourselves, awaken the fascinating "intoxication of the race." Within the atmosphere of the surrealistic, even if artificial, dream,Gatsos recreated in a mystical
way unexpected images from the world of our folk tradition
and adjusted them to the psychological climate of the German
occupation, perhaps not intentionally or even voluntarily but
just suggestively. Kitsos' mother who "throws stones at the
river" became a slogan for the young, and especially for the
poets of the "resistance," who wanted to express in modern
imagery and free rhythms the struggle of the people against
the oppressors. But the line about Kitsos is completed in a

From Contemporary Greek Poetry

215

wonderful manner by the following passage, one of the most

successful and most poetic in Amorgos. We observe here with
what deep poetic instinct tradition emerges like a living spectre.
Carrying behind it images from ancient times, it stops for a
moment beside the Germans of 1943 and, blending with everything it touches, revives and imprints upon us a Greek landscape lost in an immensely deep and vast aesthetic dream.
But who are these on the high mountain gazing
With calm eye and serene countenance?
This dust in the air is the echo of what conflagration?
Is it Kalyvas fighting or Levendoyannis?
Have the Germans joined battle with the Maniates?
Neither Kalyvas is fighting nor Levendoyannis
Nor have the Germans joined battle with the Maniates.
Silent towers guard a phantom princess
Cypress tops befriend a dead anemone
Peaceful shepherds sing their morning song
with a lime-tree reed
A foolish hunter fires a shot at turtle doves
And an old forgotten windmill
With a dolphin's needle mends its rotting sails
And comes down from the slopes with a favouring north-west
wind
As Adonis descended the footpaths of Khelm6s to say
good evening to GOlfo.
There is only a hint of the resistance, given with the
"battle" between the Germans and the Maniates. This "battle"
is but one episode, one moment, in the absolute and permanent
span of life and nature. But this span, this relation of life and
nature, we live here visually and mythically-we would say
like a fairytale-and not at all conventionally. The spontaneous
writing frees us from the necessity of seeing a windmill in the
evening as we would see it in a picture, as we see it at every
moment. We see it, in a way, as in fairytales-as Don Quixote
would see it, as defined in a moment of great inventiveness by
the modifying imagination of the surrealist Gatsos. It becomes
a mystical being who mends his rotting sails with a dolphin's

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THE CHARIOTEER

needle, prepares himself for a timid love, comes down the

slope with a favoring wind "to say good evening to Golfo."
This moment is one of the most evocative and most Greek in
our modern poetry. It also shows the third element through
which Amorgos exerted its fascination. It is its genuine "modern
element," the magic world that appears here and there in the
manner of Greek fairytales, presented in the style of Disney.
How do we gladly accept this microcosm of Disney as well
as all the forms of objects and beings he presents us with,
as they function outside the laws of physics and of necessity,
completely free to be whatever they want at any moment, free
from any consequence? Isn't this, actually, the innermost desire
of man, the real essence of freedom? Only in this way can we
feel the poetry and the meaning of images like these:
Because the golden eagle is not a closed drawer
It is not a tear from the plum tree nor a smile
from the water-lily
Neither is it the dove's shirt nor the Sultan's mandoline
Nor silk attire for the head of the whale
It is a saw from the sea that cuts seagulls to pieces
It is a carpenter's pillow a beggar's clock
It is fire in a blacksmith's that scoffs at priests' wives
and lulls the lilies to sleep
It is the match-making of Turks and the Australians'
feast-day
It is the lair of Hungarians
Where in the autumn the hazel nut trees go secretly
meeting together
They see the wise storks dyeing their eggs black
And they too weep
They burn their nightgowns and put on the duck's
petticoat
Spreading stars on the earth for kings to walk upon
With their silver amulets the crown and the purple
They scatter rosemary on the flower beds
For mice to go to another pantry
To go into other churches to eat the Lord's Table
And the owls my children

From Contemporary Greek Poetry

217

The owls howl

And dead nuns rise to dance
With tambourines drums and fiddles with pipes and lutes
With pennons and with herbal censers and veils
Wearing bears' trousers they eat the ferrets' mushrooms
in the frozen valley
They play heads or tails with the ring of Saint John
and the gold coins of the Blackamoor
They laugh at witches
They cut a priest's beard with the yataghan of Kolokotronis
They bathe in the vapour from the incense
And then chanting slowly go into the earth again
and are silent
As waves are silent as the cuckoo at dawn
as the oil lamp in the evening.
We observe that all this movement, all this ultralogical,
kinetic and fairytale-like group of beings and objects of our
folklore, after a host of alternations and oddities, returns to a
vacuum, to zero, to silence, and is lost beneath the earth; as
happens in dreams, in fairytales, where the magic suddenly
vanishes. This is one of the permanent characteristics of
Amorgos, a characteristic not so obvious, yet real. Thus this
modern poem goes even deeper into our poetry and our tradition. It takes something from the sad and dark mood of the
netherworld as conceived by the folk imagination, originating
in Homer. Deep inside the poem a dirge is heard, to which
Gatsos gives a form that strictly follows the rules of the folk
style, permeated by a metaphysical feeling.
In the yards of the afflicted the sun does not rise
Only worms come up to mock the stars
Only horses thrive on ant heaps
And bats eat birds and piss semen.
In the yards of the afflicted night does not fade
Only the leaves vomit a river of tears
When the devil comes in to mount the dogs
And ravens swim in a well of blood.

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'I'HE CHARIOTEER

In the yards of the afflicted the eye has run dry

The brain has frozen the heart has petrified
The flesh of frogs hangs in the spider's teeth
Hungry locusts scream at vampire feet.
In the yards of the afflicted black grass grows
Only one May evening a wind passed
A light tread like the frisking plain
A kiss from the foam-decked sea.
And if you thirst for water we will squeeze a cloud
And if you hunger for bread we will slaughter a nightingale
Only be patient a moment for the healing rue to open
For the black sky to glow for the mullein to flower.
But it was a wind that has gone, a lark that has flown
It was the face of May the white of the moon
A light tread like the frisking plain
A kiss from the foam-decked sea.
Amorgos is not only, at some level, a poem of death and
spectral life. It is also a poem of love. Thus it finally becomes
a modern version of romanticism of the best quality. These most
genuinely moving lines-lines of love, to use a colloquial expression-spring from the same deep centers of the subconscious.
But this love, an unconfessed secret of the soul, appears unwilling to be expressed with that unequivocal psychology of
publicity that characterized the old-style romanticism. It is a
love that wants to remain hidden, shrouded in mist, sometimes
appearing and sometimes vanishing or becoming something else,
a dream, sea, loneliness. The fascination and dream-like lyricism
of Amorgos is largely due to these repeating and successive
alternations that coexist so harmoniously and become a rhythm
and a language and an original image, a creation of an imagery
adorned with folk colors.

How very much I loved you I alone know

I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades

From Contemporary Greek Poetry

219

And with the mane of the moon I embraced you and we danced
on the summer plains
On the gathered reeds and we ate together the cut clover
Great black sea with so many pebbles round your neck
so many coloured gems in your hair.
This emotion may be the power that changes the poet's
natural melancholy mood and drives him toward an optimistic
dream, a reconGiliatory dream that unexpectedly connects Saint
Sophia with the domes of Baltimore.
A ship comes into shore a rusty wheel-well
groans
A plume of blue smoke on the rosy horizon
Like the rending wing of the crane
Armies of swallows wait to say their welcome to the brave
Arms rise naked tattooed with anchors
Children's cries mingle with the west wind singing
Bees go in and out of cows' nostrils
Kalamatan kerchiefs wave
And a distant bell dyes the sky blue
Like the sound of a church bell travelling in the stars
So many centuries gone
From the soul of the Goths and from the domes of
Baltimore
And from the great monastery of lost Saint Sophia.
As we read these lines, our mind is led to the idea that
poetry may be this sound of the "church bell" that travels eternally among the stars; a composite, collective sound which brings
together notes from the domes of Baltimore and the bells of
Saint Sophia. The world is a vast vision composed, however,
of specific and immovable images and styles, such as, for
example, the Gothic and the Byzantine. The poet brings together these scattred elements of the vision and makes them into
a vision of his own-like the one that Gatsos gave us with
Amorgos. And the new elements that he brought together, in
order to influence us as much as he did, were several and
significant. Only he himself was not impressed by his work

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THE CHARIOTEER

and did not continue it, although he gave us the following

beautiful promise: "Goodnight then; I see a host of falling
stars rocking your dreams but I hold in my fingers the music
for a better day." Let us remain with the music of Amorgos
and the hope of a better day.

From INTRODUCTION TO
D.I. ANTONIOU AND NIKOS GATSOS*
BY ANDREAS KARANDONIS

translated by Myrto Kapri

I am really sorry because my health did not permit me tonight

to be among you and to communicate directly with the new
poetic audience of our time. We, the so-called "old ones," have
more to learn from you than to teach you. I would like you to
believe that my sorrow is true and the obstacle real. I am also
sorry because the words that I want to tell you from this podium
about the two poets, Demetrios Antoniou and Nikos Gatsos,
are related not only with the two poets whom I consider remarkable-as, I believe, several others do-but also because, al
though so different from each other, they belong to the generation
that, as most of you recognize, was connected with the radical
change in poetry, from traditional to modern or contemporary
or innovative, as it is often characterized lately by new philologists
and critics. [ ... ]
Nikos Gatsos did not become known and was not established
as a poet but from one and only poem of about twenty pages,
Amorgos. An austere and pedantic historian of our literature
could characterize [him] as an occasional or amateur poet. But
we can oppose this possible characterization with a very effective
antidote. It is given to us by one of the most beautiful and essential lines of the poet Antoniou, who tells us that
In our land precious things occupy so little space ...
Besides, the rule is known which tells us that quality counts
more ,than quantity unless, of course, if the quantity has also
quality. In our poetic tradition the examples are not few: Solomos,
Kalvos, Cavafy, Porfyras, Gryparis, Kariotakis. But also the
generation of the 30s could not be considered as a model of
*This Introduction was read by Th. Niarchos in November 1980, at
the theater "Erevna," as part of the series "Presentations of Contemporary Greek Poets." Only the part referring to Nikos Gatsos is
translated here.

221

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THE CHARIOTEER

prolific poets, as is the 'case of those who followed them. Seferis

once confessed to me that he writes three hundred lines and
keeps only ten. And it is strange to observe that a genuine, a
rather original poet influences others more when he is non-prolific
rather than prolific: one and only clear-cut gesture pointing firmly
toward a new direction is sometimes enough to cause a revolution
or to create what in older times was called "a school of poetry."
Exceptionally, then, and almost dangerously non-prolific
the two poets we are discussing. And now you may ask: "0
key. But did they influence the later poets, did they start a
revolution, did they create 'a poetic school'?" On .this question,
what we can say is this: We are used to divide and rank :the
poets into various categories, classes, groups, schools, etc. and
very often-and also superficially-to think that we uncover their
secrets or we evaluate them, if we attribute to them one of the
standardized and sterile terms of the traditional poetic aesthetics:
romantic, classical, neoclassical, symbolist, Parnassian, neosymbolist and so on.
This habit is a very long tradition in criticism that fortunately,
I think, begins to deteriorate these last years but with the danger
of being succeeded by another analogous situation, if we note
how often terms like "structure," "construction," structuralism"
and other similar ones are used, originating from the contemporary philosophical, scientific and psychological pursuits in the
field of general philology. However, in spite of our distrust of
these divisions and similar classifications, we also cannot avoid
something like this tonight. For a long time, we have considered
that, apart from the established divisions and classifications, we
can use yet another one that permits us to divide the poets into
two very general categories: those who discover new methods
of writing and those who touch us with what they offer us, just
as we secretly slip a gift or an aid in the pocket of a friend.
These poets are so personal, so "self-grown" that without
violating the well-known axiom that "there is no parthenogenesis
in art" you think that they neither have distinct ancestors nor
leave descendants and successors. They intrude between the other
classes like a beautiful and harmonious dissonance. It is in this
category that Demetrios Antoniou belongs. His ancestor is poetry
itself, the general climate within which he was spontaneously

From Introduction to D.l. Antoniou and Nikos Gatsos

223

born is what we call "a non-traditional writing." [ ... }

And now it is time to turn to the other poet of this evening, Nikos Gatsos. This strange man, as soon as he was
proclaimed a poet-actually overnight-abandoned poetry or
rather used his success in order to become an excellent translator
and then a very prolific writer of lyrics for light songs identified with the glorious music of Hadjidakis, Theodorakis and then
a large number of their followers. His one and only poem, the
most surrealistic Amorgos, created an unexpected "situation" in
the poetry of his time and influenced, as very few others did,
not only the surrealistic evolution of our poetry but also the socalled "modern poetry" in its entirety.
I don't know how you, the young people, see Gatsos as a
poet. If, however, you take a look at the literary chronicles of
1944, the year Amorgos was published, you will discover with
surprise that very rarely has the first appearance of a young
poet generated so much excitement, so much astonishment, even
so much admiration. Of course, Elytis had already preceded him
by several years, beginning in 1935. We have to emphasize, in
particular, that without Elytis, there would not have been a
poet named Gatsos, or at least Amorgos, the poem that made
Gatsos instantly a poet, would have never been created or seen
the light.
How did this happen? Nikos Gatsos had been dedicated
to poetry since his youth, almost since his childhood. Formally
he was studying literature at the University, but basically he was
moved very deeply by poetry. When we first met, in the courtyard of the old building of the School of Philosophy, in
1932, I saw with pleasure that this student had a deep knowledge of modern Greek literature and knew and admired
Palamas' poetry as few others did. At the same time, he was
interested in everything new that was dawning in our poetry.
He was fascinated with Seferis' "Erotikos Logos." When, after
1935, he became acquainted with Elytis, they were bound together by a close friendship. Elytis introduced him to the new
European poetry, extending to Greece through surrealism, represented formally, dogmatically and fanatically by Andreas
Embirikos. On the other hand, Gatsos, with his taciturnity,
his strict verbal criticism-full of hesitations and reservations

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THE CHARIOTEER

about everything-influenced the flexible, insular sensitivity of

Elytis. Gatsos thus acquired, or already had as a natural gift,
something he has maintained until now: the ability to be at
the same time an overt teacher and a secret disciple. Amorgos
is due to this quality of his. It was born by the striking together
of two pebbles: Gatsos himself and Elytis. The writing of the
poem started one evening at Gatsos' house, in the presence of
Elytis, as a "game of surrealistic imitation," and ended in the
revelation of a new and talented "modern poet." When the
poem was completed, it was read in circles of friends and all
of them found it to be a masterpiece. A legend was created
that caused Kimon Theodoropoulos, at that time director of
the publishing company "Aetas," to publish it immediately. As
soon as Amorgos was published, it is hard to describe what
admiring comments were written in the journals of that time.
The first to come out in support of it was Papatzonis, who
until then had been the philosophical opponent of surrealism.
Many others followed.
What is most important, however, is the influence he
started to exercise on the new poets. This influence can be
divided into two elements. The first is the magic that a perfect linguistic articulation of a poem exercises on everyone of
us. Since a very young age, Gatsos had the demotic language
perfectly articulated within him and he expressed it with a vigor
and a force that elevated our language to an aesthetic level.
Long before writing Amorgos, he had published in Nea Estia
traditional poems of enviable linguistic and metrical perfection. Later, the surrealistic freedom gave him the opportunity
to expand linguistically without at all betraying the wonderful
measure of linguistic sense whose unsurpassable model is the
folk song. The second element that influenced the young poets
is the fact that Gatsos, having absorbed the whole of Moreas, *
transferred its heroic spirit and its linguistic sense to the surrealistic composition of Amorgos. This transfer, summarized in
the folk song-like verse "Have the Germans joined battle with
the Maniates ?" was a new way of expressing in modern form
*Moreas (MCalptac;), popular name for the Peloponnese.

From Introduction to D.l. Antoniou and Nikos Gatsos

225

the spirit of the Resistance to the German occupation, so

timely, fervent and still "active" in 1944.
This degree of blending was sufficient to make us consider as very logical one of the surrealistic creations most devoid
of logical coherence. However, in Amorgos we also discern
other remarkable elements. An authentic folksiness that we do
not observe either in Seferis or in Elytis; evocative hints of
prosocratic philosophy; a spirit of prophetic vision concerning
the realization of a future reconciliation of all tragic contradictions of today's life. Then, at last, without any obstacles will
"bees go in and out of cows' nostrils." And in the depths of
the poem, a repressed erotic substratum, this "green star" to
which the poem is dedicated and which is, here too, the secret
receiver of Amorgos, about which we have spoken before in
connection with the poet D.I. Antoniou.
It was natural that all these things fascinated the intellectuals as well as the poetic audience of the time-so much
so that the serious historian Alekos Despotopoulos, brother of
the philosopher Constantine Despotopoulos, wrote an extensive
study, analyzing it word by word, as if it were the most logically
composed poem in the world. Unfortunately, this study remained unpublished. However, he read it to us, and he succeeded in convincing us. This success of Amorgos fascinated
all of us except the poet himself. Instead of continuing, as
every other poet would have done, he wrote only one more
poem consisting of a few verses about Diirer' s "The Knight,
Death and the Devil" and, in 1963, a lyrical encomium in traditional form, dedicated to Seferis when he was awarded the
Nobel Prize. His main production has been mainly the writing
of lyrics for bouzouki music. But even in this area, Gatsos was
an innovator, creating a whole school. He blended into light
verses written in an old-fashioned sentimental form some absurd
surrealistic elements, combined with the most unexpected
rhymes. Innumerable poets have imitated him-even Elytis in
the collection The Ro of Eros-but nobody has surpassed him.
At any rate, the case of Gatsos remains a problem.
This, in a few words, is the poetic story of Nikos Gatsos.
Now, nothing else remains for you but the experiment of ap-

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THE CHARIOTEER

proaching this only child of Gatsos (in terms of poetry). Whatever the result might be, it will not be possible to erase from
our literary chronicles the fact that this text, even if considered
as one of the most paradoxical games and spontaneous farces
of surrealism, has written a chapter in the history of our
modern poetry.

THE CREATIVE SEEDS OF THE SPOKEN WORD*

KARoLos KouN
translated by Apostolos Athanassakis
BY

It was during the Occupation that I first heard any mention

of Nikos Gatsos' opinion carrying weight when it came to matters of literature and the theater. I think his great reputation
began with his translation of Blood Wedding. Amorgos arrived
later. Everyone realized that his translation of Blood Wedding
was exceptional-! was enthusiastic about it-and we all agreed
in our discussions that we should stage this play, but I had
not met Gatsos himself yet. His translation of Blood Wedding
had filled us with excitement because its directness and level of
poetic achievement had a purity that did not have the ring of
translation; :it had so much integrity and creativity. In the beginning we did not see much of each other, but as time went on
we met more frequently. We spent more time together not only
because he knew so much and his opinion carried so much weightand to all this one should add the sharpness of his mind and
his charm-but also because we had to discuss the repertory of
the Theatro Technis. Gatsos was one of my indispensable advisers, and I always asked for his opinion on every sensitive issue.
It became such a habit to discuss everything that I would not
stage a play, :if I did not examine with him its possible repercussions and the usefulness of staging it. We met almost every
evening at various hangouts-we are talking now about a time
much later than the Occupation-of which the most important,
during summers, was the one at Phokionos Negri Street. There
was another spot, on Patision Street, a tiny little place-a pastry
shop, If I am not mistaken-which has now disappeared. We
met at my home, too, where he would come evenings from time
to time, and we would stay late talking with two-three other peo*From I Lexi [The Word], 52, February 1986. Karolos Koun, the
director, for many years, of the Theatro Technis [Art Theater] in
Athens is considered as one of the most distinguished theater directors
and teachers of contemporary Greece.
227

228

THE CHARIOTEER

ple. Whether at my home, or at different spots, alone or in the

company of a group of writers, I remember how beautiful these
times were, just as we would talk about different problems.
This is something one cannot experience in our times-I mean
these discussions outdoors. Perhaps, others do not feel this way,
but I just don't see this kind of thing any more. There was
also-much later-Piccadilly where I would go to find him when
I needed him. He would go there at lunch time every day. However, I recall the old times, when we met evenings, as more
edifying. Later we lost touch, and I was left with Nikos' memory
and with the seriousness of his intellect in my thought. It was
this seriousness that cleared up many things inside me, especially with regard to literature and the theater, and made me
see them through a different prism. He possessed not only intuition, but also knowledge and dearly defined opinions on
what is good theater, opinions that have had a great influence
on me.
This is what I think happened with Gatsos: Amorgos was
so impressive as to set limits for him. He did not dare publish
something else. It was from that time on that we discussed the
possibility that the great success of Amorgos became the reason
why he did not publish another original poetic work. Certainly, lines of poetry came to his mind again. But Gatsos was
a perfectionist. He wanted perfection for what he did. So,
since he would not want to publish anything other than what
he felt would take him beyond Amorgos, Amorgos became an
obstacle. The absence of what we expected sends us into guessing games. We always suspected that his desk drawers concealed
something not yet known to us, and we always waited to see
what else he was working on after Amorgos. Personally, I had
the feeling that he had something in the works. He is so secretive
in what he does, and so creative at the same time, that one
suspects, always, that he has put the finishing touches to something. It is quite possible that thinking about things is enough
for him, and that the thoughts themselves, even in their abundance,
do not compel him to write them down. I am fully aware that,
despite all he knew, he did not do literary theory. He was interested only in what was creative in relation to poetry. I do not
think he would ever care to write an essay. Besides his mind

The Creative Seeds of the Spoken Word

229

would not help him do something like that, because it is a mind

that prefers to spend its energies in talking and not in writing
critical essays. He likes to engage in thought that keeps its distance from the written expression. He wanted poetry only to
be expressed this way. He preferred to talk about his beliefs in
a random fashion. Contrary to what we tend to think, I understand now that oral expression is not lost; it stays. Nikos
Gatsos' mark on me has remained indelible all these years. I
always try to keep to his guidelines, to what he stood for, things
that, in my opinion, would not have stayed with me, if I had
read them. I now understand how clever his tricks were. He
wanted to keep his thoughts within our talks and he wanted
them channeled through talking. We forget, sometimes, that the
ancients, including Socrates and so many other philosophers and
intellectuals, communicated their thoughts through oral discourse. Our get-togethers were symposiastic. People simply gathered for the purpose of discussing things.
I feel happy to have been part of such a stage in my development. Even if our discussions were not written down, the
seeds that were planted have enriched my life. Talk penetrates
us in strange ways and creates a climate that the written word
cannot create, even if the written word rewards us with glittering and monumental landmarks. It is possible that laziness can
be the cause of not writing, but I am sure that laziness is not in the
mind. Quite the contrary, the mind wants something warm and
alive in order to channel and to be channeled. Laziness is created by the hand and by the absence of a living person. I understand this, because many people urge me to write down the
things I talk about when I teach during our rehearsals, but I
find this hard. I can write about very few things, when I concentrate for the purpose of writing. I want to have in front of
me the objects into which whatever I say will be channeled. It
is the object that stimulates me. When this give and take is not
there, when the objects are not there, my hand has a hard time
recording things. But even so, nothing is lost. Spending time
together with Nikos Gatsos and discussing things with him has
not left me only with a general impression, which in itself is
very important, but also with concrete thoughts. He used to
say, for example, that "in a play persons should follow the die-

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THE CHARIOTEER

tates of fate and of tragic forces and not those of their own will."
The influence of Nikos Gatsos on me was decisive. This is
why it has been enduring and not passing. Even now Gatsos
exists in me.

A PROPOSAL FOR AN ANALYSIS*

BY TASOS LIGNADIS
translated by C. Capri-Karka

Amorgos is a difficult and cryptic poem. I worked hard to

analyze it in order to become familiar with it, not only as an
aesthetical work but also as an asset. I divided the poem according to my own assessment into six parts. I suggest a title
for each part and attempt an analysis and a commentary on its
form and its content. This entire process represents a personal
recording of my own encounter with it. This is the way I approached the poem and the way I looked at it. I don't know
if I will help the reader. What I do know is that I have been
an inhabitant of Amorgos.

PART ONE
TITLE: NATIVE LANDSCAPE PRESENTED WITH
AN INTRODUCTORY EPIC PICTURE OF
THE GERMAN OCCUPATION
I call it an epic because the opening picture suggests a
homeric origin (Their country lashed to their sails and the oars
hanging in the wind). The landscape of the Odyssean journey
becomes a region of death. The day of return, "v6cr-rq.tov
~ ~ap," is identified with an abstract symbolic liberation. And
I say-1 want to believe-that it is identified with the liberation
*This essay is a chapter from Tasos Lignadis' book A Double Visit to
an Era and a Poet: A Book on Nikos Gatsos (Gnosi Editions, Athens,
1983).
In each section of the original Greek text, the analysis ("Reading")
is accompanied by "Comments" which deal mostly with meter, rhythm,
internal rhymes, alliterations and other such effects which are not possible to translate. Therefore the Comments were not included in the
translation, except for a few segments that could be rendered in English
without losing their meaning.

231

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THE CHARIOTEER

of the country. The spontaneous writing extracts the repressed

nightmare from the subconscious, disguising it as a shipwreck
awaiting salvation. And this always takes place in two phases
that coexist in parallel and crosswise. These two phases that
always alternate in Amorgos are the landscape of death and
the landscape of love that succeed one another. As for the rest,
Part One is divided into the verse structures of four long
paragraphs.
THE FIRST PARAGRAPH OF PART ONE
Their country lashed to the sails and the oars
hanging in the wind
The shipwrecked slept calm as dead wild beasts on
a bedding of sponge
But seaweed eyes are turned to the sea
Lest the south wind with fresh dyed lateen
carry them back
And a lost elephant :is always worth much more
than the trembling breasts of a girl
Only let the roofs of lonely mountain chapels light up
with the yearning of the evening star
Let birds flutter in the masts of the lemon tree
With the steady white breath of new fledged motion
Then will come winds the bodies of swans that stayed
immaculate tender and still
Among steam-rolling shops and cyclonic vegetable
gardens
When women's eyes became coals and the hearts of
chestnut sellers broke
When the harvest stopped and the hopes of crickets began.
READING
In the first paragraph the series of images (and by the
surrealistic code: the series of "thoughts") is for the most part
disconnected. The sequence and the alternation take place by

A proposal for An Analysis

233

thematic and semantic leaps. The only connection must be

sought in the association of ideas, or one could even establish
an intermittent flow of relations. In this early part, the poet, as
if stating his identity, appears as a genuine surrealist. This diagnosis is enhanced by the intentional disruption of the syntax
and the inconsistency in the function of the verb tenses: the past
is identified with the future, the aorist with the future tense
(Then will come winds ... when women's eyes became coals ...
when the harvest stopped).
This enigmatic image I think I can decipher by extracting
the following meaning: landscape of death, with its scenery in
arrest, anticipating something erotic, like another twitch, a movement, a metaphorical resurrection. Everything is anticipating
something wonderful beyond the tangible (the trembling breasts
of a girl) ; it is anticipating it from the south wind, expecting
the mountains to become full of life, a spring to come bringing
with it creatures of beauty and freedom, in that "zero" time of
joy when time past and time present overlap.
[I think that memory connects this piece with Seferis' poem "In the
Manner of G.S.":
... and if we see "the Aegean flower with corpses"*
it will be with those who tried to catch the big ship by swimming
after it ...
In Gatsos' poem "Song of Old Times," dedicated to Seferis, I read:
... And then you came and carved a fountain
for the shipwrecked old sailor of the sea
who vanished but his memory remained
a glowing shell in the isle of Amorgos.
In Seferis' Mythistorema (Poem 4, with the subtitle "Argonauts") we
read:
Their souls became one with the oars and the oarlocks
with the solemn face of the prow
with the rudder's wake
with the water that shattered their image.
The companions died in turn,
with lowered eyes. Their oars
mark the place where they sleep on the shore.
*Aeschylus, Agamemnon 659.

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THE CHARIOTEER

With respect to this passage, Seferis refers to the Odyssey, XI:75-78:*

And heap up a mound for me on the shore
of the gray sea, in memory of an unhappy man,
that men yet to be may learn of me. Fulfil
this my prayer, and fix upon the mound my oar wherewith
I rowed in life when I was among my comrades.
A similar image in Thrush, "The Wreck 'Thrush:'"
I heard the voice
as I was gazing at the sea trying to make out
a ship they'd sunk there years ago;
it was called "Thrush," a small wreck;
and further down:
naked bodies plunging into black light
with a coin betwleen the teeth, swimming still,
while the sun with golden needles sews
sails and wet wood and colors of the sea.
See also the related "The Leaf of the Poplar" from Logbook I:
It trembled so, the wind carried it away,
it trembled so, how could the wind not carry it away
in the distance
a sea
in the distance
an island in the sun
and hands grasping the oars
dying the moment the port came into sight
and eyes closed
in sea anemones ... ]

THE SECOND PARAGRAPH OF PART ONE

Therefore you young men with wine kisses
and leaves in your mouths
I want you to go out naked into rivers
And sing Barbary as the woodsman hunts for
the lentisk
As the adder passes through barley fields
With its proud and angry eyes
And as the lightning threshes youth.
*The words are those of the shade of Elpenor, youngest of Odysseus'
companions.

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A proposal for An Analysis

READING
In the second paragraph the style is simplified into an invocation and the meaning becomes easy to understand as it is
divided into three similies. The appeal is addressed to some
"young men," intoxicated (with wine kisses and leaves in your
mouths), that resist the conqueror-poetically or in reality, it
doesn't matter. The tone sounds to my ears like a battle-hymn.
Here the connection of the images can easily be seen: An uprising of innocence is stated with nietzschean criteria of beauty
and power.
THE THIRD PARAGRAPH OF PART ONE
And do not laugh do not cry do no rejoice
Do not vainly tighten your boots as if you were
planting plane trees
Do not become FATE
Because the golden eagle is not a closed drawer
It is not a tear from the plum tree nor a smile
from the water-lily
Neither is it the dove's shirt nor the Sultan's mandoline
Nor silk attire for the head of the whale
It is a saw from the sea that cuts seagulls to pieces
It is a carpenter's pillow a beggar's dock
It is fire in a blacksmith's that scoffs at priests' wives
and lulls the lilies to sleep
It is the match-making of Turks and the Australians'
feast-day
It is the lair of Hungarians
Where in the autumn the hazel nut trees go secretly
meeting together
They see the wise storks dyeing their eggs black
And they too weep
They burn their nightgowns and put on the duck's
petticoat
Spreading stars on the earth for kings to walk upon
With their silver amulets the crown and the purple

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THE CHARIOTEER

They scatter rosemary on the flower beds

For mice to go to another pantry
To go into other churches to eat the Lord's Table
And the owls my children
And the owls howl
And dead nuns rise to dance
With tambourines drums and fiddles with pipes and lutes
With pennons and with herbal censers and veils
Wearing bears' trousers they eat the ferrets' mushrooms
in the frozen valley
They play heads or tails with the ring of Saint John
and the gold coins of the Blackamoor
They laugh at witches
They cut a priest's beard with the yataghan of Kolokotr6nis
They bathe in the vapour from the incense
And then chanting slowly go into the earth again
and are silent
As waves are silent as the cuckoo at dawn
as the oil lamp in the evening.
READING
The third paragraph of Part One is a reversal of the preceding one. The suggestive tone, with its negative and affirmative
pairs, addresses itself to youth. The last word of the preceding
paragraph is the word "youth." The sentence "do not become
FATE" is in my view a key sentence. Submission to fate in a
space and time where love and death manifest themselves as
another form of freedom is not appropriate. Because the struggle
(the golden eagle) is not an everyday sensation of laughter, of
tears and of joy. It is not something soft and pleasant. It is harsh
and nightmarish and is related to the dance of death. The acrimonious and the exquisite demanded by surrealism can be seen
here as a rebellion within reality, in other words, within History.
We have to see the images of this paragraph in their selfsufficiency and self-existence in order to understand that they
are parts of an intelligible relation that is not so much logical
as syntactical, and indeed understandably metaphorical. "Heroes"

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A proposal for An Analysis

or subjects of these animated moving pictures are: the rebellious

eagle, with his negative and affirmative definitions, who plays
a leading part, both conceptually and syntactically; the hazel-nut
trees that march toward the mystery of love; the mice which, as
in the fairy-tale of the Magic Flute, commit sacrilege; the owls/
alarm sirens that wake up the dead nuns/bacchae; all these
constitute the most robust and secret image of Amorgos, a
frightening and magnificent image, one of the best in Greek
poetry.
THE FOURTH PARAGRAPH OF PART ONE
And so in a deep jar the grape dries
In the belfry of a fig tree the apple ripens
So with a gaudy necktie
Summer breathes under the tent of the vine
And a tender love of mine sleeps naked
among the white cherry trees
A girl unfading as the bough of an almond tree
Her head on her raised elbow and her palm on
her gold coin
On its morning warmth when quiet as a thief
The dawn star comes through the window of spring
to wake her!
READING
The fourth paragraph closes Part One with a contrast
that dispels the nightmare. The scenery becomes gentle and
peaceful as it is set between spring and summer. The deadly
climate that closes the preceding paragraph is followed in this
one by the breath of a dream-like idyll in pleasant colors. The
memory of love (a girl unfading as the bough of an almond
tree) , like the .. distant rose" of Palamas, banishes the gloom
of reality.

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THE CHARIOTEER

PART TWO
TITLE: MISSION
According to my assessment, Poetry struggles to retain something stable within the flow of things: the meaning of this flow.
And this constitutes a form of resistance-either metaphorical
or real-either within History or within the Conscience. The commitment to a duty of any kind is a requirement of existence.
It is something erotic, the pleasures of which become perceptible
only on the verge of death. The second part is divided into
three paragraphs.
THE FIRST PARAGRAPH OF PART TWO
They say that the mountains shake and the fir trees
are angry
When night gnaws at the nails on the slates to let
the goblins in
When hell sucks in the frothing toil of the torrents
Or when the hairline on the pepper tree is pummelled
by the north wind.
READING
In the first paragraph of Part Two I see the image as
follows: The pure, inaccessible features of the peaks (mountainsfir-trees) become angry at the rude violence which threatens an
order of innocence, poetic or real or historical (in other words
of the German occupation) . The meaning we should prefer is
not particularly important. What is important here is that night,
hell and winter violate a familiar landscape.

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A proposal for An Analysis

THE SECOND PARAGRAPH OF PART TWO
Only the oxen of the Achaians in the lush pastures
of Thessaly
Graze sturdy and strong the eternal sun gazing
upon them
They eat green grass poplar leaves celery they drink
clear water in the dykes
They sniff the earth's sweat and then fall
Heavily under the shade of the willow to sleep.
READING

In the second paragraph of Part Two an epic image that

tries-! think-to suggest the endurance, the persistence of life,
predominates. And this is frozen in time in a permanent symbol
which represents the acme of the Greek Myth that is hinted at
in the allegory of the Trojan expedition (the oxen of the Achaians
in the lush pastures of Thessaly graze ... under the eternal
sun ... ).
THE THIRD PARAGRAPH OF PART TWO
Cast away the dead said Heraclitus and he saw heaven
blench
He saw in the mud two small cyclamen kissing
And he too fell down to kiss his dead body
in the hospitable earth
As the wolf comes down from the forests to see the dead dog
and to bewail
What use to me is the drop shining on your brow?
I know the thunderbolt wrote its name on your lips
I know an eagle built its nest in your eyes
But here on this watery bank there is one road only
One deceiving road only and you must cross it
You must plunge into blood before time overtakes you

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THE CHARIOTEER

And go across to the other side to find your companions

again
Flowers birds deer
To find another sea another gentleness
To seize Achilles' horses by the reins
Rather than sit mutely rebuking the river
Stoning the river as did Kitsos' mother
Because you too will have been lost and your beauty will have
aged
In the branches of an ozier I see
your childhood shirt drying
Take it, a flag of life to shroud death
And may your heart not be bowed
And may your tear not flow on this implacable earth
As the tear of the penguin flowed once
on the frozen waste
Complaining does not serve.
Life will be the same everywhere with the serpents' flute
in the land of ghosts
With the song of brigands in fragrant woods
With the knife of suffering in the face of hope
With spring pining deep in the screech owl's heart
It is enough for a plough to be found and a sharp
sickle in a blithe hand
It is enough for only a little wheat
To ripen for feasts a little wine for memory a little water
for the dust.
READING
In the third paragraph of Part Two the line 11 Cast away the
dead said Heraclitus" suggests obviously the bidirectional-purely
Heraclitean-flux between existence and non-existence for us
and between the alternating phenomena of life and death for
Philosophy. I think that this line refers to Heraclitus' fragment:
NE.KuEc; yap Korcp(cuv ~Kt;A:rrr6-rEpot (The necessity to throw
away the dead is more urgent than the disposal of dung). The
obscure remainder of the first line 11and he saw heaven blench" leads

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241

me to cross-reference it-with some hesitation-with another very

obscure Heraclitean fragment: A{}ava't"OL {}VT]'t"OL, {}VT]'t"Ol
<Xfravo:'t"ot, Z,:&vnoc; 't"ov EKc:lvc.uv {}avo:'t"ov 't"ov f>E EKELV(J)V
<!>lov 't"c:{}vc:w't"Ec; (Immortal are mortals; mortal are immortals
because one is living the other's death and dying the other's life) .
Perhaps there is here a suggestive reference to Heraclitus'
"biography." Even if it is a possible version of of fairy-tale and
a legend, this doesn't mean that it doesn't remind us of something. According to the sources we have (Diogenis Laertius,
Neanthis Kyzikinos and Suda), Heraclitus abandoned his privileges (he was descended from the royal family of the Androcleides) and went into the solitude of the mountains, disgusted with
people. It is said that he was suffering from dropsy and he
smeared his belly with ox dung and lay on the ground under the
sun to let the fluid evaporate-but with no result. This is how
he died. A hint emerges automatically from the poem.
Lying on the ground with the poultice of dung suggests the
idea of "a dead body in the hospitable earth." If, in particular,
we take into consideration the legend that he was torn to pieces by
dogs (like Euripides), because they did not recognize him, covered
as he was with dung, the idea of a potentially dead body is
reinforced. Naturally, this obviously made-up testimony is based
on Heraclitus' fragment No. 97: Kuvc:c; yap KO:'t"o:<!>o:uZ,:oucrtv
G>v O:v ll~ ytyv6JaKc.uat (Dogs also attack him they know not).
Here, of course, the word "dog" opens up the possibility of a
crucial association, I believe. The wolf that turns to see the
dead dog is here a substitute for Heraclitus of the mountain
wilds descending to see his corpse. The pairing: Heraclitus- corpse,
wolf- dead dog is clear. Of course, Heraclitus denounced the
perishability of matter (corpse+ body) and accepted the spirit
(wolf+ light). Anyway, this Heraclitean solitude continues in
the following lines as a landscape of spiritual adventure. The
rrdrop that shines on your forehead" is a strong reminder of a
later poetic image. I mean the poem dedicated to Seferis, "Song
of Old Times"
And when you see the falling star
of old times shine secretly
on your forehead with a soft glow, rise up ...

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THE CHARIOTEER

This shimmer is undoubtedly a creative rebellion of the spirit

just as rebellion are also the conditions of solitude (of self-exile)
that "test" the spirit. These conditions are: the mountain, the
thunderbolt (that "rules all things") and the eagle. Again, these
creatures lead me to a similar command from Heraclitus' self-exile
in the poem mentioned above:
But now that Holy Tuesday is drawing near
and Resurrection will be long in coming
I want you to go to Mani and to Crete
and there to have forever as companions
the wolf the eagle and the asp.
Gatsos counsels Heraclitean behavior. Resurrection will be
"discovered" only on the deceptive road which is the road of
War, the father of the World.
This element "Ept<;," dispute, includes the element "pc.u<;,"
love (corpse- they kiss). This "Ept<;" (dispute) of the pair
immortal-mortal, with the blenching of the sky, is a preparation
for the element "Epc.u<;" (love) which kisses the body of death.
Here Alekos Despotopoulos' approach is similar. Also related
is Seferis' image:
leaves of the palm tree in mud
( "Gymnopaidia")
I suspect an association in Gatsos:
leaves of the palm tree-kiss*
[For the use of the image "other sea" see also Seferis' poem "Raven":
... Those who travel watch the sail and the stars
they hear the wind they hear the other sea beyond the wind
near them like a closed shell]

A suggestion, then, for the "meaning": The knowledge

of death is equivalent to a decision or a mandate for a mission
*The effect of alliteration in the Greek: q>uA.A.a: q>oLVLKLCic; - q>LALOUV'tCXL
is lost in translation.

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in life. The "achievement" is needed in order to make clear

the destiny of duty that man carries. There is only one road to
initiation into worldly matters and one should travel along it
steeped in blood. This sacrifice to duty is a characteristic feature,
as it is very often manifested in poetry; see a surrealistic parallel
in Octavio Paz ("The River Bank") :
Life does not start without blood
without the ashes of sacrifice
the wheel of the days is not set in motion.
[Argyris Hionis has translated Paz in the journal
in 1982.]

To

LlEV'tpo (The Tree),

Blood is a prerequisite (Heraclitus' n6A.ElJ.O<; 'ITcXV'tU>V 'ITa't~p

[War is the father of all J) in order to "go across" to where
all the pure creatures of freedom are to be found, flowers, birds,
deer ("beauty, freedom, impetus," A. Despotopoulos comments),
in order to be able to learn that duty has a nationality; to seize
Achilles' horses by the reins (as Cavafy saw them cry for Patroclos
in his poem by that name) instead of sitting down fatalistically,
and "opening holes in the water,"* like the legendary inconsolable mother of Kitsos. The "only solace" is not "to tell" and
"to cry"** but to feel that youth (two small cyclamen kissing)
is the permanent adversary of death, viewed as Poetry, as Existence,
as Commitment. The chilhood shirt is the flag of resurrection that
will "shroud death." And all these come with harshness-the
Nietzchean harshness of the time-because tears and complaints
do not help, since the world has always been like this with its
contradictions, as is conveyed by the paragraph with the contrasting pairs in the last lines.
*A common Greek expression implying a futile effort.
**The words in quotation marks are from the fifth stanza of the Greek
National Anthem, Dionysios Solomos' "Hymn to Liberty":
Unfortunate! The only solace
left to you was to tell
of/ast glories
an recounting them to cry

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THE CHARIOTEER

FROM THE COMMENfS ON PART TWO

Cryptomnesia (KpuTITOttVY'JO"(a) *As the tear of the penguin
flowed once on the frozen waste: from the Disney cartoon in
which a penguin's tear, flowing down a snow-covered slope, becomes an avalanche of destruction.

PART THREE
TITLE: NEKYIA **
The title is Nekyia-again according to my approach-because it produces the image of a land of the dead, of a dark
place that we could consider as an equivalent or a symbol of
the specific scenery of the German occupation, a situation repressed
into the poetic subconscious.
In the yards of the afflicted the sun does not rise
Only worms come up to mock the stars
Only horses thrive on ant heaps
And bats eat birds and piss semen.
In the yards of the afflicted night does not fade
Only the leaves vomit a river of tears
When the devil comes in to mount the dogs
And ravens swim in a well of blood.
In the yards of the afflicted the eye has run dry
The brain has frozen the heart has petrified
The flesh of frogs hangs in the spider's teeth
Hungry locusts scream at vampire feet.
In the yards of the aflicted black grass grows
Only one May evening a wind passed
*The appearance in consciousness of memory images which are not recognized as such but which appear as original creations.
**Magic ritual during which the spirits of the dead rose from Hades and
were asked about the future.

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A proposal for An Analysis

A light tread like the frisking plain

A kiss from the foam-decked sea.
And if you thirst for water we will squeeze a cloud
And if you hunger for bread we will slaughter a nightingale
Only be patient a moment for the healing rue to open
For the black sky to glow for the mullein to flower.
But it was a wind that has gone, a lark that has flown
It was the face of May the white of the moon
A light tread like the frisking plain
A kiss from the foam-decked sea.
READING
Part Three imitates the form of the folk song. It is a
typical song of Charon, a mourning song made up of six fourline stanzas. As far as I am concerned, rrthe yards of the afflicted"
signifies slavery (a nightmarish dream). It is presented with
a frightening "dantesque" description, the origin of which reminds us of the nightmarish landscapes of Edgar Allan Poe
("An infernal landscape" according to A. Despotopoulos). In
the fourth stanza the despair of the description is interrupted
by a contrast that brings some relief; a breeze of liberating
feeling revitalizes the waste land. rronly one May evening a
wind passed," although it was only temporary, ttBut it was a
wind that has gone, a lark that has flown."
The use of the Genitive "-rou McxytOu" (of May) reminds us of Solomos' line "The day of May dawns." Further
on, the form of the Genitive will change into "-rou Moo(:*
rrlt was the face of May." We see also the same use of the
phrase "a light tread" in Gatsos and in Seferis ("with gentle
steps,"** "Spring A.D." from Logbook I).
*There are two forms for this Genitive in Modem Greek: 'toU
Ma:ytou and 'toO MOO, both of which are translated in English as
"of May."
**Although translated differently by two translators, in Greek the phrase
is the same: llE nEpmrnwa: !A.a:q>p6.

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THE CHARIOTEER

The intentionally coarse line ~rAnd bats eat birds and piss
semen" is used in order to introduce a repulsive element into
this bleak landscape. In general, the school of Surrealism uses
such expressions in order to achieve something that contrasts with
the sweetening effects of lyricism and to prevent all possibility
of flabbiness in the image and the rhythm.
In Part Three Gatsos' statement which is lyrical in naturein terms of image, rhythm and evocative power-reaches its peak
and becomes a valuable asset of our literature.
FROM THE COMMENTS ON PART THREE
As far as the rhythm is concerned, this piece is an iambic
fifteen-syllable form with very few metrical violations to avoid
metrical monotony. It is composed in the style of the folk song
and it is a song of Charon (Death) that follows in form and
in content the pattern of mourning songs. (A series of "denials"
in the structure, with an underlying note of despair.)

PART FOUR
TITLE: PROPHETIC
In Part Four the poem takes on the appearance of prose. As
I approach it and understand it, I am inclined to call it Prophetic.
The equivalent piece in Elytis' Axion Esti is a closely related
parallel. I quote the text twice; the first time as a continuous
text, as visualized in the composition (this being also an element of the surrealistic code) , followed by the text as I divide
it by slashes. I add the slashes in order to express its rhythm in
terms of music, syntax and meaning. Instead of commas and
periods, I use single and double slashes. The single slashes may
serve the function of separating verses; the double ones help to
separate paragraphs.

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247

TEXT WITHOUT SLASHES

(In order to avoid repetition, the reader is referred to
p. 41 of this issue where the text appears without slashes.)
TEXT WITH SLASHES
Clear running water awake from the pine tree rootjthat you
might find the eyes of sparrows and revive them/watering the
earth with the scent of basil and the whistling of the lizard.
I know /you are a naked vein beneath the wind's fearful gaze/
a mute spark amid the shining crowd of stars. No one sees you/
no one stops to listen to your breath/but you with heavy tread
through proud nature/will one day reach the leaves of the apricot
tree/will climb on the supple body of the young broom bush/
and roll from the eyes of a lover/like an adolescent moon.//
There is an immortal stone/that a passing human angeljonce/
wrote his name upon/and a song that no one yet knows/neither
the wildest children nor the wisest nightingales. The stone is
now closed up in a cave on Mount Devijin the valleys and
ravines of my native land/but when the cave opens sometime
and this angelic song leaps forth against decay and time/the
rain will suddenly stop and the mud will dry /the snow will
melt in the mountains/the wind will sing/the swallows will
come to life again/the oziers will quiver/and when the people
with cold eyes and pale faces/hear the bells ringing by themselves in the cracked bell towers/they will find festive hats
to wear and proud tassels to tie on their shoes.//
Because then no one will jest any more/the blood in the
streams will overflowI animals will break their bridles in the
stalls/the hay will turn green in the stables/and fresh poppies
and mayflowers will spring up on roof tiles/and at all the
crossroads they will light red fires at midnight. Then timid
girls will quietly come/to throw their last garment into the
fire/and they will dance naked around it/exactly like the time
we too were young/and a window would open at dawn/so
that in their breasts a flaming carnation would sprout.//
Perhaps children/ remembrance of ancestors is a deeper solace

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THE CHARIOTEER

and more precious company than a handful of rosewater/and

the intoxication of beauty no different from the sleeping rosebush
of the Evrotas. Goodnight then/1 see a host of falling stars
rocking your dreams/but I hold in my fingers the music for a
better day. Travellers from India can tell you more than all
the Byzantine Chroniclers.
READING
I suggest to the reader the following approach to Part
Four. The poetic persona invokes the "talking water" of life
that flows through the veins of things imparting a certain fertility, no matter how humble and invisible it is. The appeal is
made in the name of the landscape that has become a waste
land. This water is the yearning itself, the desire, the love that
pulses through the veins and writes its secret song in the remote
hiding places of beauty. This secret inscription is carved on an
immortal stone now closed up in a cave on Mount Devi in the
valleys and ravines of my native land. It is the "real homeland"
of the poet, his poetic, his spiritual homeland. Mount Devi is
a mountain in India synonymous with the deities known as
Deva, who are stellar beings.
[Deva: beings to whom God has given the power to rule the material
world. These beings are innumerable and each one performs a service
in the Universe. They are intermediate deities and cannot approach
God. They give the people only temporary joys, stnce they possess limited
powers. The worshippers of Deva, when "they are liberated," go to
their place of worship, for example to the moon, the sun and, in our
metaphor, to the country of poetic fruition (immortality); however,
they need another spiritual process in order to enter the absolute world
of Krishna. See SRI ISOPANISHAD.]

With Devi, the stellar origin of poetry and its power are
manifested. This power is at present dormant but-the prophesy
says-it will awake some day with all the similies you may want,
such as freedom, poetry, or the sovereignty of beauty, and it
will replace the illusory and deceptive with tangible reality. All
this promise of a return to the Land of the "human angel" draws

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249

its language and its worldly meaning from the power of tradition. In other words, from the well which safeguards it and
which knows that memory is the other name of existence, the
other cutting edge of freedom:
Perhaps, children, remembrance of ancestors is a
a deeper solace and more precious company ...
[Compare here the related lines that Andreas Embirikos was to
write: "When man turns away from the texts and from tradition, he
resembles a pillar of salt in the rain."]

This is a deeper solace and more precious company, and

the intoxication of beauty is no different from the sleeping rosebush of Evrotas. This rosebush is perhaps the symbol of a Doric
landscape and a "Doric romanticism." This rosebush of Evrotas
I call Sparta. This return to a holy time, to the time of Myth,
is well known to those who feel how wise it is to plunge into
the "substance" of holiness. The poet is the one who holds in
his fingers the musical instrument for a better day. Because it
is Devi' s stellar origin that offers the truth as a revelation
(travellers from India) and not as the wisdom of History
(Byzantine chroniclers). (I agree with the following passage
from Despotopoulos' study: "The fully developed prose sentence,
fashioned, however, into a poetic style, now easily encompasses,
like an open plane, the beautiful successive images.")

PART FIVE
TITLE: X-RAY PICTURE
In this Part the formal style of the puristic language intrudes, suddenly self-mockingly pronouncing an aphorism about
human existence.
During the course of his mysterious life man
Has bequeathed to his descendants multifarious and
worthy tokens of his immortal lineage

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THE CHARIOTEER

As he has also bequeathed traces of ruins of dawn

avalanches of celestial reptiles as well as
kites, diamonds, and glances of hyacinths
In the midst of sighs tears hunger lamentation
and the ashes of underground wells.
READING
The theme of Part Five is how OELvoc; (terrible, wondrous*)
man is and how much suffering follows his every achievement
and creation. As a parallel-if not an intentional borrowingwe could consider the stasimon of Sophocles' Antigone that starts
with the famous line: noA.A.a 'reX OELVcX KOUOEV &v8pc0'TtOU
OELVO't"Epov 'TtEAEL ("Many the wonders but nothing more
strange than man"**).
In this brief passage from Amorgos one can discern the
bitter irony of futility and see clearly, as in an X-ray picture,
the Promethean nature of man and also the Promethean hybris
of his thinking. According to my approach again, the central
meaning one can extract is the following: the immortality of
origin (science - art) is juxtaposed with the everyday necessity
of death (tears, hunger, ashes). It is not hard to understand that
Part Five, written in an elaborate and highly polished puristic
language, functions as a surprise and a negation of the rhythms
of the folk song that preceded and the rhythms that will follow.
In other words, the epical-lyrical tone and the succession of
images is interrupted, in order to interpose the aphoristic element
like a dull sound and a gray shade.
FROM THE COMMENTS ON PART FIVE
School (Style): The whole section is a surrealistic reference
to linguistic freedom. The reference to the linguistic magnetic
fields of Embirikos and Engonopoulos is self-explanatory.
*The Greek word f>ELVoc; can mean "terrible" or "wondrous" and
sometimes a little of both, depending on the context.
**See preceding footnote for the double meaning of the word f>ELVoc;
which appears twice in this line.

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PART SIX
TITLE: EROTIKOS LOGOS*
The sixth and last part of Amorgos is a declaration of love
for a person and for a native landscape. It is divided into three
paragraphs, the first and third of which are a repetition of each
other-with an imperceptible variation-and are addressed to the
person, while the middle one celebrates the landscape.
THE FIRST PARAGRAPH OF PART SIX
How very much I loved you I alone know
I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades
And with the mane of the moon I embraced you and we danced
on the summer plains
On gathered reeds and we ate together the cut clover
Great black sea with so many pebbles round your neck
so many coloured gems in your hair.
READING
In the first paragraph of Part Six the first person-the poetaddresses himself to the "you" in an erotic whisper that is no
different from a sigh: How very much I loved you I alone know.
I see the romantic couple in a moonlit plain as if lightly sketched
in the form of two horses (for example, like a line of Gounaropoulos**) in order to convey naturally, as if by a leap, its vital
beauty (with the mane of the moon-and we ate together the
cut clover). Here in the first paragraph, the "you" of an assumed
woman is defined as a dark and endless sea (Great black sea),
in order to show clearly the great depth and elusiveness of the
erotic idol. This "idol" was an almost obligatory motif for the
surrealists (perhaps a legacy of romanticism) . In the third para*Love Song. George Seferis has written a poem with this title.
**A contemporary Greek painter.

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THE CHARIOTEER

graph, this "you" woman will change definition and will-! would
like to think-justify my approach.
THE SECOND PARAGRAPH OF PART SIX
A ship comes into shore a rusty wheel-well
groans
A plume of blue smoke on the rosy horizon
Like the rending wing of the crane
Armies of swallows wait to say their welcome to the brave
Arms rise naked tattooed with anchors
Children's cries mingle with the west wind singing
Bees go in and out of cows' nostrils
Kalamatan kerchiefs wave
And a distant bell dyes the sky blue
Like the sound of a church bell travelling in the stars
So many centuries gone
From the soul of the Goths and from the domes of
Baltimore
And from the great monastery of lost Saint Sophia.
But who are these on the high mountain gazing
With calm eye and serene countenance?
This dust in the air is the echo of what conflagration?
Is it Kalyvas fighting or Levendoyannis?
Have the Germans joined battle with the Maniates?
Neither Kalyvas is fighting nor Levendoyannis
Nor have the Germans joined battle with the Maniates
Silent towers guard a phantom princess
Cypress tops befriend a dead anemone
Peaceful shepherds sing their morning song
with a lime-tree reed
A foolish hunter fires a shot at turtle doves
And an old forgotten windmill
With a dolphin's needle mends its rotting sails
And comes down from the slopes with a favouring north-west
wind
As Adonis descended the foothpaths of Khelm6s to say
good evening to Golfo.

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A proposal for An Analysis

READING
In the second paragraph of Part Six one sees the idyll that
was noted previously develop within the intended environment:
in the definitely Greek landscape and its historic events that
give it both its obvious and hidden physiognomy. This paragraph conveys this physiognomy. I see an image of the sea with
clear indications of its national identity: the rusty wheel-well,
the blue smoke, the Kalamatan kerchiefs, the bell that dyes the
sky blue, the church of Saint Sophia and the shepherds with limewood pipes. And in this landscape, indirect signs of national
liberation are scattered: the armies of swallows that will welcome the brave (Resistance, Spring, Freedom); the reference to
the song of the klephts with the typical question and answer of
the folk song about Kalyvas and Levendoyannis, the Germans
and the Maniates. At this point, the association is concealing the
metaphor and making it cryptic: the towers of Mani guard a
phantom princess (a definite memory from the time of the
occupation by the Franks and the Chronicle of Moreas). In my
approach, I like to see her as having a disguised meaning (as
a symbol) and I call her Freedom, this dead anemone of the
homeland, in the eerie landscape of loneliness and desolation,
as conveyed by the living windmill that, forgotten by all, sews
his sails by himself and descends from the slopes with a favorable
north-west wind, pretending to be Golfo's* lover, Tasos, in the
footpaths of Khelmos, identified with Adonis. And one adds
automatically: like Adonis who was dying and being resurrected,
like Christ, like a country. Thus, at this point that closes the
second paragraph of Part Six, the scenery and the person become identical as parts of the idyll (windmill- Adonis - Golfo).
This metaphor is the most comprehensive and the most significant
in the whole of Amorgos.
THE THIRD PARAGRAPH OF PART SIX
My tormented heart year after year I strove with
ink and hammer
*The heroine of a popular play written in 1894 by Spyros Peresiades.

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THE CHARIOTEER

With fire and gold to make you an embroidery

A hyacinth from the orange tree
A flowering quince tree to console you
I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades
And with the mane of the moon I embraced you and we danced
on the summer plains
On the gathered reeds and we ate together the cut clover.
Vast black solitude with so many pebbles round your neck
so many coloured gems in your hair.
READING
In the third paragraph of Part Six the Erotikos Logos
reaches a peak. Consolation of the soul, a gesture of love, art
as a confession (ink and hammer) . The words of the poetic
persona are repeated, unchanged from the first stanza of this
last part. Only the word "you" is no longer there. The sea is
a word that is missing. It was drained out of Amorgos and also
out of the world, out of the soul. The "you" remains only as
a painful void, like "another death." Thus Amorgos ends with
the bitter sound conveyed by the letter "[.1" in Greek [ m), like
a dominant alliteration in the last line:
Mo:6p11 [.1EyaA.11 !-lovo:~la.
[Vast black solitude)
FROM THE COMMENTS ON PART SIX
National Identity: The whole second paragraph is an indication of national identity. It is as if the poet places explanatory
inscriptions in the landscape with Greek signs.
Rewriting: The church of Saint Sophia, "the great monastery" of the folk song. Is it Kalyvas fighting or Levendoyannis? ...
Neither Kalyvas ... from the folk song. In the footpaths of Khelmos to say good evening to Golfo, according to the well-known
lines of Peresiadis from his superb Golfo.

LEND SILKEN THREADS TO THE WIND

INTRODUCTION
BY EUGENE ARANITSIS

translated by C. Capri-Karka

When Gatsos passed away, he left behind the one and

only poem of his life, dozens of songs we all loved, and his very
life-as-a-poem, the scattered evidence of the fame of a man
with remarkable literary talents which, however, he himself
viewed with unusual modesty. His unyielding decision to maintain a disciplined and unremitting literary "silence," as it came
to be characterized, was and is, one would assume, an enigma
of a psychological order (to which, of course, until today, some
almost convincing solutions have been proposed: perhaps what
was responsible was his critical distancing of himself from
things, the disappointing realization of an unattainable standard
of originality and perfection, the natural tendency toward mental
analysis rather than synthesis). This was not a pose or a device
(the mistake of many who believed that Gatsos "was writing
without publishing") no matter how much support it lent to
the myth which was going to impart an aspect of preciousness
to the invisible fruits of a private literature. The unpublished
work that he left behind turned out to be very meagre indeed.
It consists of the unfinished early draft of a theatrical play, some
scattered notes and an envelope with a few completed or unfinished poems which preceded Amorgos and which are, in a
way, its forerunners. The envelope bears the title "Material in
Motion" in the poet's own handwriting. Its content, fifty handwritten pages, many of which are variations on the same motif,
reflects the efforts of a man searching for the tone of his voice
in an area, in a subject matter, that has already been given to
him and has already been registered in his poetic cell: it is the
climate of the folk song, the folk tale, a pleasurable thrill at
the fairy's touch. The whole spectrum of the introverted, unrequited love for a "night full of spells" and for the sibyllic

255

256

THE CHARIOTEER

dirges that are transformed into songs of harvest causes a

distinct ripple in these literary beginnings.
Several more aspects of the poetic idiosyncracy of Gatsos
are confirmed by these early poems: The instinctive preference
for the iamb, the shadow of which is continuously discerned
while it itself swerves and shatters. Also his strong persistence
in that "aesthetically" risky resonance of a mediterranean pastoral imagination in a verse decidedly attuned to surrealism.
Finally, the strange note of springtime mourning, the invocation
of the ghosts of an uninhabited land where the hints of death
and love are touched upon in the depths of a very characteristic
lyrical density. From the
withered roses clocks stopped
a big ox is hanging in the jasmins
or
To see crosses in lonely chapels and stars on the roofs of trees
to see a thoughtful love on the balconies of the moon

to Amorgos, no revelation intervenes in the use of the language

or the style, no unexpected conversion: we could hardly call
these verses youthful writing, although we know, of course,
that the "value" or, more correctly, the meaning of Amorgos
is related to the weight of a global vision, to skill in the development of a "fugue," the musical transition through successive
phases of the Greek poetic tradition. At any rate, the poems
included in this edition, although "not enough" to shed ample
light on the secret of the unusual artistic course of Gatsos, "contribute" in defining the terms of this secret: the reader who
knew Gatsos in depth will probably find here the beginnings of
an art clearly atmospheric, very familiar and no less inexplicable,
as far as its origins are concerned, than its sudden decline.
Among the texts left behind there was also some evidence
of a rather moving gesture: it was the "exercise" of copying
some stanzas from the poems that Vizyinos had written while
in a psychiatric hospital. Copying means going deep into and at
the same time capturing the spirit. I think that Gatsos wished

Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

257

subconsciously to touch that chord of madness which the poetry

of his time had turned toward the pursuit of the sacred, of the
night, of chimera. How can you walk in the crossroads of maturity
and oblivion, if not by copying the lines of someone who has
done it? These few scribbles, permeated by a genuine tenderness for Vizyinos, are the fingerprints of a poet who in his
youth was a mature, aged man, in the same way as he remained
until his death a child.
There are not many technical details in need of clarification. The line "wearing a ribbon round your neck/to greet the
cranes" is also included in the poem "Because I took you" as
well as in "Take Your Ring"; the latter, dedicated to the memory
of Maria Nomikos, is an early form of "Elegy" (Amorgos, pp.
34-35); I included it here since the differences of the two "versions" are quite significant, so that the two texts are independent
compositions rather than one being an early draft of the other.
In both there exists again the experience of mourning, the lament
that is so intensely present in Gatsos' work. The second poem,
chronologically, seems to reflect a voice more clear and balanced,
more mature. From the first, what remains is the exaggeration,
the element of a more passionate appeal, the interplay of names.
The title of the "collection" is borrowed from the poem "What
can you say? Virgins stoop"; the initial thought to maintain the
provisional title "Material in Motion" seemed to me pseudooriginal (or pedantic) .
The executor of the poet's literary estate, Agatha Dimitrouka,
was kind enough to assign to me this material in order to unravel, according to my best judgment (and who knows if I have
this right) , a thread through the maze of variations and notes.
I returned it to her in the present form, selecting those pages
that seemed to me more integrated with respect to the alternative
solutions which the poet suggested to himself. It is understood
that this delicate work could be considered effective only after
the preparation of a literary edition which would include the
entirety of Gatsos' work in progress; but this is certainly not
my responsibility. For the time being, what one can offer is a
taste of sweetness and sadness, a trill, a flash or an unfinished
musical score.


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258

LEND SILKEN THREADS TO THE WIND

translated by Marjorie Chambers
Since I have been mourning
my golden and blue
and heavenly light
the rhythm of the world
has changed within me.

G. VIZYINOS
SPANISH RHAPSODY
In memory of Ravel

Bare trees. Bare trees.

Plains of stone. Mute villages.
I will embroider the wilderness
with vineyards and bell-towers.
Bare trees. Bare trees.
Yellow earth. Dim mountains.
Malaga and Monemvasia
Bring wine to inspire me.
Bare trees. Bare trees.
Once at a river two willows sprang
A child crying for joy embalmed in the roots.
Put your ear to the earth.
And hear dearly its breathing
As the seagull hears
When it sleeps on the sand
The lament of the sea.
Bare trees. Bare trees.
Once in a sky two doves flew
Lean black horsemen held their steeds for a moment.
The reins tremble in their hands, the Arabian fig trees gaze at
them.
Frightened clouds gather in the distance.
259

260

CHARIOTEER

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Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

261

To bring you herbs and myrrh

Jewels of the heart that you will plant
in the frost of wearied thought
in the salt of tearful biUerness,
alone I took the road one evening
that leads to the flowering slopes

..............................

What can you say? Virgins stoop

And the colours of the orange tree do not change in winter
And the stars that sink in the north motionless
Tearful numberless do not shed their ashes.
What can you give? Take your turn
Lend silken threads to the wind and if it covers the sea calm
your soul
The lightning did not fall on the dry leaves in spring
Anemones did not roll under the feet of women
without mercy
Even here in the poplars the dew came like a
hunted bird and had not time
To whisper her prayer.

262

CHARIOTEER

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Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

263

TAKE YOUR RING

To the memory of Maria N omikou

God will have smiled once at the fire in your eye

Spring will have closed her heart like a pearl
on an ancient shore.
Now as you sleep shining
On the sands of the stars, a tear of the Pleiades
A sharp pebble
In the arms of Celaeno and Maia. *
Take your ring
Take silver from the meadows to paint your brow
And come to me and sleep
Sinking eternally into a springlike sea
On a summer night when I will seek your eyes
Lost on the shores of some pale Galaxy.
Come like an April sun to the window of my dreams
Wearing a ribbon round your neck
To greet the cranes travelling to strange lands
To close a rose as the doves lull a child to sleep
Beneath the leaves in the vineyards on a slope
of the White River
In the arms of plane trees at a cave of the Evrotas.
For you life was like a tear from the sea
Like a summer fire and a kerchief of May
As you too were a deep blue wave of hers
A bitter pebble of hers
A little swallow of hers roaming the woods
Without fire for the dawn without stars in spring
Your warm heart turned toward strange lands
To the broken teeth of the other shore
To the dead children of the wild cherry tree
and the seal.
*Two of the seven daughters of Atlas and Pleione. According to
mythology, the hunter Orion fell in love with them and pursued them
through the woods until Zeus, in order to save them, transformed
them into stars, forming the constellation of the Pleiades.

264

CHARIOTEER

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Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

Beat tambourines on the slopes. In this gorge

Near the bitter almond trees Federico sleeps
His eyes starry his soul an abyss.
Tell the horses to stop
Tell the children not to run
Tell the rivers to be silent
Lest they grieve his heart.

Patient horses wait in the courtyard.

Who will tell them of green rivers
And who will saddle them at dawn?
He who loved them....
Dead centuries of the moon since

265

266

CHARIOTEER

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267

Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

ORANGETREE OF AEGINA
From the light of the golden beach in your eyes
A wing gathers its shade
A wind strives with the south wind.
I wonder what hand will put on you
A handful of soil from the Morea?
Little mother orange tree
Throw the orange to your earth
an embrace
Love, the broad sea.

268

CHARIOTEER

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Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

Blood, blood, blood,

Will iron smoke
Roses withered clocks stopped
A big ox hangs among the jasmine.

Down in the white sea

I shall sleep the sleep of children
The stake of an apple tree I planted last year
Will be orange blossom in your hair
Only do not tell your shadow to come.

269

270

CHARIOTEER

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Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

Because I took you

From your dark hair and brought you up to the clouds
To see golden eagles in their eyries and dancers on
threshing floors
To see crosses in lonely chapels and stars on
the roofs of trees
To see a thoughtful love on the balconies of the moon
And then with your tear and your smile
To gaze on me as in a dream and take my hand
With the ribbon round your neck to greet the cranes
With your blue eyes to colour the sky
With your blond hair to mock the sun
With your naked breasts to laugh at the lilies
With the blue of your eyes to challenge the sky.

271

272

CHARIOTEER

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Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

273

A SUMMER NIGHT
To Andreas Embiricos

Merope I close my eyes to remember the earth that absorbed the blood of slaughtered birds in its entrails and became
somewhere fire smoke and iron beyond the dust of rivers where
the willows sing. On the evening mountains a star sparkles wanting to start the chorus of the swallows and the crickets.

274

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CHARIOTEER

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Lend Silken Threads to the Wind

Ah, what a withered meadow!

Door closed to beauty!
I seek for a child
to heal my grief
with dahlias from the sleeping moon.

A ruined bell-tower
Shows the road of fire to the shipwrecked
It tells the fate of reptiles to the dead
Perhaps the sea will change but spring does not change
Perhaps the clouds will dissolve but your memory will not
dissolve
Perhaps heroes will weep but the emerald does not weep
Copper is not seduced by two grapes.

275

NIKOS GATSOSSELECTIVE DISCOGRAPHY

compiled by David Connolly

A collection of lyrics by Nikos Gatsos is to be found in:

Nikos Gatsos, Fysa aeraki fysa me, min hamiloneis isame (Blow
breeze blow me, don't abate until), Athens, Ikaros 1992. The
discography below includes most of the songs in this collection
and a number which are not. The records are listed in alphabetical order according to the composer's name and in chronological order under each composer. Individual songs are listed
in the order they appear on the record. An asterisk indicates that
the English translation is taken from the record sleeve. All other
translations are my own (DC).

MANOS HADJIDAKIS
Elias i chora ton oniron (Greece the land of dreams), FONTANA
1960.
"Itan tou Mai to prosopo" (The face of May) From the poem
"Amorgos"
"San sfyrixeis treis fores" (When you whistle three times)
"Athina" (Athens)
"To pelago einai vathi" (The sea is deep)
"Kalymniotiko" (Song of Kalymnos)
Odos oniron (Street of dreams),* COLUMBIA 1962.
"Efyge to traino" (The train's left)
"America Americd', WARNER BROS. 1963.
"T' asteri tou vorria" (The North Star)
Mythologia (Mythology), COLUMBIA 1969.
"Treis kopeles ap' ti Thiva" (Three girls from Thebes)
"0 Robinson sti Mykono" (Robinson in Myconos)
"0 Irlandos ke o Ioudaios" (The Irishman and the Jew)
"Ta kalotaxida poulia" (The journeying birds)
"Orestis" (Orestes)
"Aeriko" (Fairy)

276

Nikos Gatsos-Selective Discography

"Me tin Ellada karavokyri" (With Greece as captain)
"0 Tzonis o boyas" (Johnny the executioner)
"Isoun pedi san ton Christo" (You were a child like Christ)
"Enas evaisthitos listis" (A sensitive robber)
"Nychterines eidiseis" (Evening news)
"Lamento" (Lament)

Epistrofi (Return), COLUMBIA 1970.

"I pikra simera" (Today's sorrow)*
"Milise mou" (Speak to me)*
"Tina yinetai o kyr Fotis" (What about old Fotis) *
"I kolasmeni" (The damned ones)*
"0 Timonieris" (The helmsman) *
"To Despinaki" (Despinaki) *
"Helidoni se klouvi" (Swallow in a cage) *
"Fildisenio karavaki" (Little ivory boat)*
"Stis zois ti strata" (Down life's pathway)*
"Se pelagisio mn ima" (On a sea grave)*
"Damon ke Fidias" (Damon and Findias) *
Tis gis to chryssafi (Gold of the earth),* COLUMBIA 1971.
"Kykladitiko" (Cycladic) *
"To paramythi" (The tale)*
"Agapi mesa stin kardia" (An affair of the heart)*
"Bora einai tha perasei" (The storm will pass over)*
"Aspro peristeri" (White dove)*
"I mikri Rallou" (Little Rallou) *
"Hasapiko saranda" (Hassapiko 40) *
"Apopse fthinoporiase" (Autumnal evening)*
"Stou ouranou tin akri" (The sky's limit) *
"Stou iliou to aloni" (Chaff in the sun) *
"Protominia" (First of the month)*
"Agapo mia karderina" (I love the goldfinch)*
Proti ektelesi (First performance),* COLUMBIA 1973.
"Kame ton pono sou hara" (Tum your pain to joy)
"Mia Panaghia" (A Holy Virgin)
'Thalassopoulia'' (Seabirds)
Ta paraloga (Absurd songs), NOTOS 1976.
"0 ephialtis tis Persephonis" (Persephone's nightmare)
"To alogo tou Orner Vryoni" (Orner Vryoni's horse)
"I Magda" (Magda)
"0 amnos tou Theou" (The lamb of God)

277

278

THE CHARIOTEER

"Cundu luna vini"

"Chrismi tis Sivylas" (The Sibyl's oracles)
"0 ippotis ke o thanatos" (From the poem "Death and the knight")
"I prosefchi tis parthenou (The virgin's prayer)
"Elladographia" ( Greecescape)

Athanassia, COLUMBIA 1976.

"0 Yannis o fonias" (Johnny the killer)*
"Kita me sta matia" (Look me in the eyes)*
"0 Pandelis" (Mr Pantelis) *
"To methysmeno karavi" (The drunken boat)*
"Athanassia" (Eternity herself)*
"I meres einai ponires" (The times are tricky) *
"Tsamikos" (Tsamikos) *
"Paraxeni protomayia" (Strange Mayday)*
"Ena spirto sto trapezi" (A match on the table) *
"Mia fora ki' enan kairo" (Once upon a time) *
"Melancholiko emvatirio" (Melancholy march) *
Pornografia (Pornography), MINOS 1982.
"I Panaghia ton Patission" (Our Lady of Patissia)
"Ela se mena" (Come to me)
30 spanies ermineies 1955-1965 (30 rare recordings), COLUMBIA
1983.
"Athina" (Athens)
"To tragoudi tis seirinas" (The siren's song)
"T' asteri tou vorria" (The North Star)
"Kourasmeno pallikari" (Tired lad)
"Sto Lavrio yinetai horos" (There's a dance at Lavrion)
"Enas evaisthitos lis tis" (A sensitive robber)
"0 Tzonis o boyas" (Johnny the executioner)
"Isoun pedi san ton Christo" (You were a child like Christ)
"Paei o kairos ... (The time's gone ... )
Memed yeraki mou (Memed my little hawk), NOTOS 1984.
"Memed agapi mou" (Memed my love)
I mythi mias gynaikas (A woman's myths), PHILIPS 1988.
"I thysia tis Antigonis" (Antigone's sacrifice)
"Eipa epi gis eirini" (I said peace on earth)
"Taormina"
"Me lene Theodora" (My name's Theodora)
"Pote pethainei o erotas" (When does love die)
"0 stavros" (The cross)

Nikos Gatsos-Selective Discography

279

"I polka ton Evraion tis Pragas" (Polka of the Prague Jews)
"Mavros tavros bike sto horo" (A black bull entered the dance)
"Ta loyia pou perimena" (The words I was waiting for)
"Stou Neilou t'ammohorafa" (In the sands of the Nile)
"Kravges yia enos Angelou mnemi" (Cries for an Angel's memory)
Antikatoptrismi (Reflections),* SIRIOS 1993.
"To tragoudi tis hamenis kyriakis" (The song of a missed sunday)*
"Pou to pigan to pedi" (Where has the boy been taken away) *
"Pes mou t' onoma sou" (Tell me your name)*
"0 horos ton skylon" (The dance of the dogs)*
"0 kosmos sou na eimai ego" (I am to be your world) *
"Kemal"
"Treis apandiseis" (Three answers) *
"To tragoudi tou dromou" (The song of the street)*
"I prosefchi tou akrovati" (The acrobat's prayer)*
"Peribanoo"

CHRISTODOULOS HALARIS
Drossoulites (Daybreak riders),* COLUMBIA 1975.
"0 drossoulitis" (Daybreak rider)*
"Tou rizikari" (Bonfire night)*
"0 Mavrailis" (When Mavraelis comes)*
"Kato sta tripotama" (The joining of three rivers) *
"To tragoudi tou Leidinou" (The song of Leidinos) *
"Mana mou mana" (Mother o mother)*
"Mia Komnini" (A Comnene girl)*
"Madrigali" (Madrigal)*
"0 Zapheiris" (Lament for Zapheiris) *
"Ta flouria" (Florins)*

YORGOS HATZINASSIOS
1 endekati endoli (The eleventh commandment), PHILIPS 1985.
"Pefti vrochi" (The rain's falling)
"I endekati endoli" (The eleventh commandment)
"Allelouia" (Hallelujah)
"Ilie pou hathikes" (Sun that has gone)
"Pyrrichios" (Pyrrhic dance)
"Mia thesi ston ilio" (A place in the sun)
"To pedi me to tambourlo" (The boy with the drum)
"Makria sto Katmandu" (Far away in Katmandu)

280

THE CHARIOTEER

"Yarem yarem"
"0 taxidiotis tou oneirou" (Dream traveller)
"Tis haras aderfi" (Brother in joy)
"Mikro mou alphavitari" (My little alphabet)

LOUKIANOS KILAIDONIS
I kokkini klosti (The scarlet thread)* HIS MASTER'S VOICE 1972.
"To spiti mou" (My old home)*
"lrthate san kymata" (Like waves you come) *
"Mia kyriaki tou Marti" (One sunday in March) *
"Mikri Zakynthinia" (The girl from Zante) *
"Nychtothika stin porta sou" (Nitghfall at your door) *
"Mila Kater ina" (Say something Katerina) *
"Mia Kefalonitissa" (Kefalonitissa) *
"Kalokairia ke vroches" (Summers and showers)*
"Me garyfallo sto peto" (Carnation in your buttonhole) *
"Gremos ke vrachos" (Cliff and rock) *
"Dekapende tou alonari" (July fifteenth) *
"Kathe chrono-kathe chrono" (Year after year) *
"Psalmos (Psalm)*

DIMOS MOUTSIS
Synikismos A (Neighbourhood 1), PHONOGRAM 1972.
"Kapia nychta" (One night)*
Proti ektelesi (First performance)*, COLUMBIA 1973.
"Pireotissa" (Girl from Piraeus)
"Rina Katerina" (Katerina)
"Ichame periphaneia" (We were proud)
"Pharmaki ta geramata" (Bitter old age)
"Vrechi o Theos" (God is raining)
"Avrio pali" (Again tomorrow)
"S'evlepa sta matia" (I looked in your eyes)
"Kapio traino" (A train)
To dromologio (The itinerary), COLUMBIA 1979.
"San ton Tse Gevara" (Like Che Guevara)
"Otan gyrisoun" (When they return)
"I Ass imina" ( Assimina)
"Treis Amerikani" (Three Americans)
"Sto Agionoros" (To Mount Athos)
"Pios echei dakrya na mou dosei" (Who has tears to give me)

Nikos Gatsos-Selective Discography

281

"1922"
"Makryni tis agapis ora" (Distant time of love)
"Tragoudi tou fylakismenou" (Prisoner's song)
"I rhetores" (The orators)
"Ellada-Ellada" (Greece-Greece )

MIKIS THEODORAKIS
Thalassina fengaria (Marine moons), COLUMBIA 1974.
"Tha rixo petra sti zoi" (I'll fight life's challenge) *
"Kimisou pallikari" (Sleep forever young man)*
"Ferte mou ti thalassa" (Give me the sea) *
"Nychta dichos akri" (Boundless night)*
"To panegyri ton astron" (The celebration of the stars)*
"Simera evradyase naris" (Night falls early)*
"T' oniro kapnos" (The dream went up in smoke) *
"Stou kosmou tin aniforia" (Life's steep road)*
"To ekkremes" (The pendulum)*
"Strata ti strata" (The pathway)*
"Matomeno fengari" (Bleeding moon)*
Archipelagos (Archipelago), COLUMBIA 1976.
"I myrtia" (The myrtle tree)
"Se potisa rodostamo" (I sprinkled you with rosewater)

STAVROS XARHAKOS
Ena mesimeri (At noon),* COLUMBIA 1973.
"Matia vourkomena" (Brimming eyes)*
"Stou Othona ta chronia" (In the days of King Otto)*
"Aspri mera ke yia mas" (Better days for us too)*
"0 Lefteris" (Lefteris) *
"Me ti kardia ton kosmo n' arnitho" (How can I deny the world) *
"I nychta" (The night)*
Nyn ke aei (Now and forever),* COLUMBIA 1974.
"Nyn ke aei" (Now and forever)*
"Ston kato dromo" (On the low road)*
"Ta dokana" (The traps)*
"Megali Paraskevi" (Good Friday)*
"Irthe o kairos" (The time has come)*
"0 mavros ilios" (The black sun) *
"I liostra" (The arena)*
"0 drakos" (The dragon) *

282

THE CHARIOTEER

"Anonymon" (Anonymon) *
"Emeis pou meiname" (We who have remained)*
Nikos Xylouris syllogi (Nikos Xylouris Collection), COLUMBIA
1974.
Barba Yanni Makriyanni" (Old Yannis Makriyannis)
"Yeia sou hara sou Venetia" (Hail and farewell Venice)
"I kori tou Pasa" (The Pasha's daughter)
"Palikari sta Sfakia" (Brave lad of Sfakia)
I symfonia tis Yaltas (The Yalta agreement),* COLUMBIA 1976.
"0 Sam o Tzonni ki' o Ivan" (Sam and Johnny and Ivan)*
"Agapi agapi" (Love my love)*
Rebetiko, CBS 1983
"Mana mou Elias" (Mother Greece)
"Stis pikras ta xeronissa" (On bitterness' barren isles)
"Kaigomai kaigomai" (I'm burning I'm burning)
"Bournovalia"
"Emena loyia mi mou les" (Watch your words with me)
"Stin Amphiali" (In Amphiali)
"To dichti" (The net)
"Sti Salamina" (In Salamis)
"To praktoreio" (The station)
Takata Markon (Songs according to Markos), MINOS 1991.
"0 horos ton Kykladon" (Dance of the Cyclades)
"I astrologoi" (The astrologers)
"Doste mou mia taftotita" (Give me an identity card)
"I proti ke i defteri" (Those that come first and second)
"Ta gerontia" (The old men)
"Mia glossa mia patrida" (A language a country)
"Piso apo mavra sidera" (Behind black bars)
"I hondroballou'' (Dumpy old woman)
"Toutos o topos" (This land)
"Gramma ston Marko Vamvakari" (Letter to Markos Vamvakaris)
Agapi ein' i zoi (Life is love), PHIUPS 1994.
"Konda sto Sikouana" (By the Seine)
"Dakrya tou fthinoporou" (Autumn tears)
"Anthropakia tou solina" (Test-tube people)
"To mavro aloni" (The black threshing-floor)
"Agapi ein' i zoi" (Life is love)
"Pilioritiki Madonna" (Madonna of Pelion)

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
Nikos Gatsos was born in 1914 in Asea, Arcadia. When he was
sixteen, his family moved to Athens, where he completed his high-school
education. He then attended the University of Athens, where he studied
Literature, Philosophy and History. In 1935 he went to Paris and
Southern France where he lived for some time.
His reputation as a poet was established in 1943 with the publication of his long poem Amorgos, a unique achievement which influenced
subsequent generations of poets.
In his youth he was a regular contributor to literary journals. Later
he worked for several years as a writer-director of radio-plays for the
National Greek Broadcasting System.
Gatsos was well-versed in English, French and Spanish and translated poetry and theatrical plays by Lorka, Tennesse Williams, O'Neil,
Strindberg, MacLeish, Lope de Vega and Genet. His superb translations were used in performances of the National Greek Theater and
the Art Theater of Karolos Koun.
After Amorgos, Gatsos stopped writing poetry for unknown reasons.
Instead he wrote the lyrics for several songs set to music by famous
composers such as Hadjidakis, Theodorakis and Xarhakos, many of
which are very fine poetry. His songs elevated the quality of song
writing in Greece and became very popular all over the country.
He was a member of the Greek Playwrights' Guild. In 1986 he
was named "Honorary Citizen" of Athens and 1991 he was elected
Corresponding Member of the Royal Academy of Letters of Barcelona,
Spain.
Gatsos' works have been translated in English, French, Italian,
German and Danish.
Nikos Gatsos spent most of his life (1930-1989) in Kypseli,
Athens. In 1989, he moved to Kifissia because of his health and he
passed away on May 2, 1992.

283

CONTRIBUTORS
APOSTOLOS ATHANASSAKIS is Professor of Classics at the University of
California, Santa Barbara. He has translated Mrs. Pagoulatou's
Pyrrhichios and Transplants and Ritsos' Lady of the Vineyards.
From classical literature he has translated the Homeric Hymns, the
Orphic Hymns, and Hesiod.
CARMEN CAPRI-KARKA, the editor af The CHARIOTEER, is a Professor
of Foreign Languages at New York University. She has published
four collections of poems, Ebb and Flow, The Age of Antipoetry,
0 Kaimos tis Romiosynis and My Mother, Peace, and two books
of criticism, Love and the Symbolic Journey in the Poetry of Cavafy,
Eliot and Seferis and War in the Poetry of George Seferis, published
by PELLA. She has translated, among others, works by Yannis Ritsos,
Titos Patrikios, Olga Votsi, Nikiforos Vrettakos and George Seferis.
MARJORIE CHAMBERS teaches Modern Greek at Queen's University,
Belfast. She has translated poems by Yannis Ritsos, George Vafopoulos and Nikiforos Vrettakos, for previous issues of The
CHARIOTEER. Her translation of Farewell by Yannis Ritsos, with
commentary, was published in Volume 7 of the Modern Greek
Studies Yearbook, University of Minnesota, and an article on
"Yannis Ritsos and Greek Mythology" in the Trinity College,
Dublin Review (Winter 1992). Other translations published in
1996 are "The Four Legs of the Table" by the dramatist Iakovos
Kampanellis, Spring issue of Modern International Drama, State
University of New York, and the collection of short stories, Kalamas
and Acheron by Christoforos Milionis, Kedros Publishers, Athens.
She is at present working on a Kampanellis play In Ibsen Country.
DAVID CONNOLLY has lived and worked in Greece since 1979. He was
for several years Head of Translation at the British Council in
Athens and now lectures in Literary Translation at the Ionian
University in Corfu. He has written on various aspects of translation theory and has translated major twentieth-century Greek authors including Angelos Terzakis, Nikiforos Vrettakos, Odysseus
Elytis and Kiki Dimoula. His most recent publications are: Odysseus
Elytis. The Oxopetra Elegies (Harwood Academic Press, 1996)
and Kiki Dimoula. Lethe's Adolescence (Nostos Books, 1996).
MYRTO KAPRI is a Sociologist educated at Durham University in England where she lived for a number of years. Her research involves
the sociological aspects of Greece's integration in the European
Community.

284

28)

ILONA KARKA is a psychiatrist. She has collaborated in translations of

poetry by Olga Votsi (49 poems), Yannis Ritsos (The Body and
the Blood) and Nikiforos Vrettakos (Liturgy Under the Acropolis)
for previous issues of The CHARIOTEER.
GEORGE PILITSIS is an Associate Professor of Classic and Modern Greek
at the Hellenic College/Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of
Theology. He is the co-translator of The New Oresteia of Yannis
Ritsos and translator of Regina Pagoulatou's The Nepenthes, both
books published by PELLA.
MARGARET RoBERTS PoLis is a retired United Nations translator. Her
literary translations have appeared in Translation, Zone, Prism
International, New Observations and other publications.

THE
NEW ORESTEIA

OF

YANNIS RITSOS
Translated with Notes and Commentary
by

GEORGE PILITSIS
and

PHILIP PASTRAS
Introduction
by

KOSTAS MYRSIADES
The ancient Greek myth of the House of Atreus has inspired the
creative genius of many artists, poets and novelists. Y annis Ritsos
(1909-1990), one of the most prolific and popular poets of
Modern Greece, was not an exception to those who have been
fascinated with the legend. In the six mythic monologues contained in this volume, Ritsos' preoccupation with the ancient
myth, unlike many of his contemporaries, is not to search for
continuity of the past ,into the present, nor to comment on the
inadequacies of the present, as does his predecessor George
Seferis. By re-creating the legend of the House of Atreus, Ritsos
attempts to express symbolically a tragic sense of life to expound
dramatically on contemporary Greek realities with historical
detachment.

PELLA PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC.

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0-918618-45-2

XXXII+168 Pages

Paper $12.00

YANNIS RITSOS

3Xlll TRISTICHS
translated from modern Greek, with an introduction,
by

RICK M. NEWTON
Pella announces the publication of a bilingual edition of Yannis Ritsos' 3X111 Tristichs (Pella 1990).
Originally published by Kedros Press in Athens in 1987,
the Tristichs (composed in 1982) are the last poems
which Ritsos published before his death in November 1990.
The poet may well have intended the Tristichs to be
his final poetic legacy, as he himself writes in Tristich
III.57:
To you I leave my clothes,
my poems, my shoes.
Wear them on Sundays.
Unique for their form and content, these three-line
poems are the most "laconic" compositions of a poet
largely known for his longer and even loquacious pieces.
Writing in his mid-70's, Ritsos reviews the vicissitudes
of his-and Greece's-life and, as he says of his
Testimonies, expresses "silent gratitude toward human
life, action, thought, and art, despite all tribulations and
despite death-perhaps indeed on account of them....
Perhaps, in every time and place, this will be the testimony of every person who feels poetry and ministers
in it."

PELLA PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC.

337 West 36th Street New York, NY 10018

ISBN 0-918618-46-0

173 pp. Paper $12.00

ANDONIS DECAVALLES

ODYSSEU,S EL YTIS
From the Golden to the Silver Poem
All seven essays in this volume are dedicated to the eminent modernist Greek poet, the Nobel laureate of 1979, and his accomplishment.
As a poet he has emphatically been the creator and preacher of his
unique, lyrical, cultural and ethical Gospel which his prevalently erotic
idiosyncracy derived mostly from the age-old Greek tradition and, more
emphatically so, from his origins in the Aegean archipelago, and voiced
through his rich, original and extraordinary lyrical gifts .
. . . Central in his Gospel is his belief in the possibility of attainment of a personal Paradise of which the elements are the same with
those of Hell, but they essentially differ in the way they are viewed.
The human soul needs to strive to rise to what the poet has called "the
Greece of the Upper World," the equivalent of Plato's Atlantis, the
realm of poetry which is "a third state of being" where the physical
world in its beauty has its spiritual extension. There lies the core of
Elytis's "solar metaphysics."
... Love, Eros in its sanctity, that of the senses, is the transcending
force throughout Elytis's creation. Enamoured youth, eternally happy
in its unawareness of time, in his Orientations, does, in the masterful
grandeur of The Axion Esti, come to the painful awareness of historic
time in the war experience. In The Light Tree, his "solar metaphysics"
will have its fullest, most masterful projection and handling, to overcome and surpass, as it seems, the poet's bitterness as caused by his advancing age and the nostalgia in his self-exile due political turmoil in
his country. In Maria Nefeli, the rebellious and embittered spirit and
the modes of a younger generation are embraced by him for their being
another side of himself. Last, in his four latest books his old age feels
challenged to reconsider the worth of his whole life in its creative
dedication and to penetrate into the meaning of death as he feels
its proximity ...

PELLA PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC.

337 West 36th Street, New York, NY 10018-6401
ISBN 0-918618-61-4
Paper/218 Pages/$14.00

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