Stride across the desert of your hesitant dreams.
Be not afraid of submerging in its dunes,
if you want to arrive to the green oasis
where fresh runs the giving sourse life.
...
Tearing their way towards the boat,
surfacing in parallel,
plunging as in invisible harness,
alongside, round, under the bowsprit,
...
On the anvil of wording you forge the poem.
And as the smith delivers the pickax
only deftly wrought to dig the soil
you don't cease chiseling it
...
Walls of unconscious hypocrisy proved to be the means
I used in my life's actions, krafts and skills.
I was sure for my kind intentions
and had never hoped to be mistaken, misunderstood.
...
She counts them, when can catch up, one by one.
She marks off: transparent, blurry ones...
Impetuous, hesitant...observes their behaviour.
Admires colours: greenish, caramel...
...
I do bless the epic Muse to have honoured me,
and have revered my labour by her refference.
I would shudder, had she on my life in Hades said nothing.
No one could imagine that I'm living here thousand lifes,
...
At an autumn's cold evening
as the wave was popping into shore
...
''Ας πέσει τo χνουδάτο τούτο χιόνι
στα όνειρά μας επάνω, να τα κάνει να λάμψουν''.
Απελευθερώσου.
Η ανάσα σου λειαίνει αμετάθετους ουρανούς,
...
In spite of centuries many, passed, it still stands here
over the large gulf they dominated and sailed from
for the long to Troia journey.
On its walls their sobs they hung
...
Since our puberty and always the two of us together
often in midsummer's time we used to take the downhill,
as soon as possible to reach
its grace's dew.
...
Voicless the lips,
motionless the hands,
vibrating the surprise's chords,
eyes ecstatic
...
Let's cover the distance
between the horizons of our feelings
and meet there where downcast eyes cross,
eyes wounded by the bitter hope's burden.
...
On our pomegranate's flowers,
between the buzzings of bees,
pink dreams we hung up,
there to be apprendiced by birds
...
Ι do often remember those flames
crazing in playful cracking laugh,
to whistle, fizzle and quarrel,
in threatening talks with each other, complot
...
Τhe lies I loved
split and blured my life's unison.
I trusted their assurance,
Olymp's summits accessible were,
...
Studies: classical literature[homeric, ancient greek, latin], ancient history, classical archaeology. Languages: [homeric dialect, ancient greek, latin]greek, english, deutch, français, portugues[brasileiro].)
Rush
Stride across the desert of your hesitant dreams.
Be not afraid of submerging in its dunes,
if you want to arrive to the green oasis
where fresh runs the giving sourse life.
You say that two enchanting eyes twinkle there.
You yearn their sparking were endearment's signs.
Why then to delay! Take the road dancing
and let the surrounding throng laugh at
even if it only is
to accost their glance's glow,
if it is in their mirror to see heaven's gate open
in front of a psyche craving.
Stand before them as a humble pilgrim,
let lips tremble,
be not afraid of heartbeat on the edge of doubt
for consensus nod final,
hope to fly embraced in flowers' shores.
You hear your heart's throb in chord's tone?
You feel the tenderness of its warmth?
Take it as a clue
that over there burns indeed your life's torch.
Throw yourself into the thrill.
Courage's steeds cannot wait long.
The harvest of emotions needs its weather
and time does not tread backwards.
Rush
It is a profound joy to see my poems taking shape, nuances, meaning, and expression through the beauty of Europe’s ancient language: the language of Homer and Sappho; the language of myth and philosophy; of democracy and science. Mr Galanis has also translated the renowned poems of Pablo Neruda, Robert Frost, William Wordsworth, and many others. My poems being translated through his poetical prism, I believe they capture and convey the universe of my poetry.
What a beautiful poem, and always when you smile at someone they nearly always smile back. nicely penned Annette.
Sas haireto kirie Galanis. Apo tin proti imera pou valate ta poiimata sas sto Poem Hunter, tha iha diavasei ola; kai ekina pou ine gramena sta Ellinika kai sta Anglika. Sas kalosorizo sto Poem Hunter, kai heroumai poli ghia tin gnorimia sas. Greetings from Cyprus.
Happiness true is the aroma of the sweat you shed helping sufferers surpass their woes.
An insolent tongue will face a time harsh in any harvest to come as tears can not be easily picked up.
Dogs never bite the hand that offered a piece of bread.
I address my warmest gratitude and appreciation towards esteemed Mr Dimitrios K. Galanis, who has made me the honour to translate forty of my English poems into his native Greek language.