Konstantinos B. Sventzouris
Biography of Konstantinos B. Sventzouris
Konstantinos B. Sventzouris theologian and paleographer was born in Greece. Achieved his studies at the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki obtaining a Master in Patristic Theology. He continued his graduate studies in Latin Patrology at the Augustinian Patristic Institute in Rome as a fellow of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity. He is graduated in Greek Paleography at the Vatican School of Paleography, Diplomatic and Archives Administration. Also has studied French language and history in France (Paris-Besançon) and Spanish language and culture in Spain (Málaga) . He worked for several years as a researcher and taught Greek Paleography at the Center for Hagiographic Studies in Thessaloniki, contributing in various critical editions of patristic and hagiographic texts. His first collection of poems Here I am... (Ed. UNI Service Trento 2011; second edition, Ed Del Faro,2012) was published in Italian.
Has also published:
-the essay: Ambrose of Milan, De Spiritu Sancto. Grammatological and theological approach in the volume Latin Christians A, Ed Vanias, Thessaloniki 2011 (in greek) ,
-the collection of poems Apodimia (Migration) , Ed. iWrite Thessaloniki 2013 (in greek) .
Engaged for years in painting, his works are in private collections in Greece and abroad. He lives and works in Rome.
Konstantinos B. Sventzouris's Works:
Here I am, (Italian) , Ed. Del Faro, Trento 2012
Apodimia, (Greek) , Ed. iWrite, Thessaloniki 2013
Konstantinos B. Sventzouris Poems
The winter nights have the color of your eyes in the starry sky the winter nights
We let it go and the fog blurred our soul penetrated deep
Just as a butterfly's breath, so little has lasted your gaze And it hurt me for all the eternity that will last my love, my desire. Just for a moment...
Yesterday Today The absences The people
I Have The Autumn
Maybe I don't want more. I have the autumn. It's enough for me the change. Only when something changes I begin to remember. And the need to pretend
On The Phone
The rain stopped. Hear no sound. The keys on the computer squeak. Rhythmically gnaw the fingers. I do not feel pain.
No longer recognized the place something in his land had changed for years believed and thought
The winter nights
have the color of your eyes
in the starry sky
the winter nights
have the sound of your voice
on the air, on the bare branches
the winter nights
are empty, unprotected
in the moonlight