Times change, years pass
the river of the world is muddy
but I go out on the balcony of a dream
to see you bent over your clay
...
a Greek poet, translator and lyricist. Nikos Gatsos was born in 1911 in Asea in Arcadia, a district of the Peloponnese, where he finished primary school (dimotiko). He attended high school (gymnasio) in Tripoli, where he became acquainted with literature and foreign languages. Afterwards, he moved to Athens, where he studied literature, philosophy, and history at the University of Athens for two years only. His knowledge of English and French was quite good and he was already familiar with Kostis Palamas, Dionysios Solomos, Greek folk songs, and recent trends in European poetry. In Athens, he came in contact with the literary circles of the day becoming one of the lifelong friends of fellow poet Odysseus Elytis and published his poems, small in extent and in a classic style, in the magazines Nea Estia (1931-32) and Rythmos (1933). During that period he also published criticism in Makedonikes Imeres (Μακεδονικές Ημέρες), Rythmos (Ρυθμός), and Nea Grammata (Νέα Γράμματα) (for Kostis Bastias, Myrtiotissa, and Thrasos Kastanakis, respectively). In 1935 he lived in France, in Paris and the South of France. In 1936 he met Odysseus Elytis, his "brother" in poetry. In 1943, Aetos published his long poem Amorgos, a major contribution to contemporary Greek poetry notable especially for its combination of surrealism with traditional Greek folk poetry motifs. He subsequently published three more poems: "Elegeio" (1946) in Filologika Chronika, "The Knight and Death" (Ο ιππότης κι ο θάνατος) (1947), and "Song of Old Times" (Τραγούδι του παλιού καιρού) (1963), dedicated to Yorgos Seferis, in Tachydromos magazine. After World War II, he worked with the Greek-British Review as a translator and with the Ellinikí Radiofonía as a radio director. During that period he also began writing lyrics for the music of Manos Hadjidakis, opening a brilliant career in modern Greek songwriting. In due course he also collaborated with Mikis Theodorakis and other notable composers. His work as a whole combines universal poetic themes such as the problems of evil, injustice, sacrifice, and the pains of love, with more specifically Greek concerns such as the sorrows of exile. His capability to hamdle language with accuracy led the "Art Theatre", the "National Theatre" and the "Popular Theatre" of Greece to entrust him with translations of various plays -translations that became "legendary"- first and foremost being "Blood Wedding" by Federico Garcia Lorca. He had a special relationship with Manos Hadjidakis and Nana Mouskouri. His British friends were Philip Sherrard, Peter Levi and Peter Jay, and his Irish friend, Desmond O'Grady. He died in Athens on 12 May 1992.)
Song Of Old Times
For George Seferis
Times change, years pass
the river of the world is muddy
but I go out on the balcony of a dream
to see you bent over your clay
embroider ships and swallows.
The sea is bitter, our land small
the water in the clouds dear
the cypress wrapped in bareness
the grass burns to ashes in silence
and the hunt of the sun is endless.
And you came and carved a fountain
for the old shipwrecked man of the sea
who vanished but a memory of him
remains
a gleaming shell on Amorgos
a salty pebble on Santorini.
From the dew that shakes on a fern
I have taken the drop of a pomegranate
so I can in this notebook
spell out the longings of a heart
with the first star of a fable.
But now that Holy Tuesday arrives
and Easter will come slowly
I want you to go to Mani and to Crete
with your company there perpetually
the wolf the eagle and the asp.
And when you see the shooting star
from another time shine on your face
secretly with delicate twinkle, stand up
bring back again a spring
that wells up in your own rock
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Times change, years pass
the river of the world clouds over
but I go out on the balcony of a dream
to see you bent over your clay
embroider ships and swallow
ΤΡΑΓΟΥΔΙ ΤΟΥ ΠΑΛΙΟΥ ΚΑΙΡΟΥ
Γιὰ τὸν Γιῶργο Σεφέρη
Ἀλλάζουν οἱ καιροὶ περνᾶν τὰ χρόνια
τοῦ κόσμου τὸ ποτάμι εἶναι θολὸ
μὰ ἐγὼ θὰ βγῶ στοῦ ὀνείρου τὰ μπαλκόνια
γιὰ νὰ σὲ ἰδῶ σκυμμένο στὸν πηλὸ
καράβια νὰ κεντᾶς καὶ χελιδόνια.
Τό παγο πικρὸ κι ἡ γῆ μας λίγη
καὶ τὸ νερὸ στὰ σννεφα ἀκριβὸ
τὸ κυπαρίσσι ἡ γύμνια τὸ τυλίγει
τὸ χόρτο καίει τὴ στάχτη του βουβὸ
κι ἀτέλειωτο τοῦ ἥλιου τὸ κυνήγι.
Κι ἦρθες ἐσὺ καὶ σκάλισες μιὰ κρήνη
γιὰ τὸν παλιὸ τοῦ πόντου ναυαγὸ
ποὺ χάθηκε μὰ ἡ μνήμη του ἔχει μείνει
κοχύλι λαμπερὸ στὴν Ἀμοργὸ
καὶ βόσαλο ἁρμυρὸ στὴ Σαντονίνη.
Κι ἀπ᾿ τὴ δροσιὰ ποὺ σάλεψε στὴ φτέρη
πῆρα κι ἐγὼ τὸ δάκρυ μιᾶς ροδιᾶς
γιὰ νὰ μπορῶ σὲ τοῦτο τὸ δεφτέρι
καημοὺς νὰ συλλαβίζω τῆς καρδιᾶς
μὲ τοῦ παραμυθιοῦ τὸ πρῶτο ἀστέρι.
Μὰ τώρα ποὺ ἡ Μεγάλη φτάνει Τρίτη
κι Ἀνάσταση θ᾿ ἀργήσει νὰ φανεῖ
θέλω νὰ πᾶς στὴ Μὰνι καὶ στὴν Κρήτη
μὲ συντροφιἀ σου ἐκεῖ παντοτινὴ
τὸ λύκο τὸν ἀητὸ καὶ τὸν ἀστρίτη.
Κι ἄμα θὰ ἰδεῖς κρυφὰ στὸ μέτωπό σου
νὰ λάμπει μ᾿ άπαλὴ μαρμαρυγὴ
τ᾿ ἀλλοτινὸ πεφτάστερο σηκώσου
νά ζωντανέψει πάλι μιὰ μηγὴ
ποὺ καρπερεῖ στὸ βράχο τὸ δικό σου
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ἀλλάζουν οἱ καιροὶ περνᾶν τὰ χρόνια
τοῦ κόσμου τὸ ποτάμι εἶναι θολὸ
μὰ ἐγὼ θὰ βγῶ στοῦ ὀνείρου τὰ μπαλκόνια
γιὰ νὰ σὲ ἰδῶ σκυμμένο στὸν πηλὸ
καράβια νὰ κεντᾶς καὶ χελιδόνια.