Shakespeare Poem by Elias Foukis

Tomorrow night there 'Il be a performance
and in the morning
I'd like to dropp in on rehearsals.


Since night is no time to get involed
with the fanfares of glory
I'll slip out for a while into the world of the Defeated.


Their God died sometime ago.


Only their Fate continues to be vital
and thus isolated as they are..so very far from the Earth
they are drowning in the sorrow that they have no right at all
to see that their past which the chroniclers
were in such a hurry to embody in memories
has now returned so acrimonious and venomous
and being mounted with such spectacular and terrible
expertise so its case may be pleaded
in the Theatre of the World.




That is also why I came down here
to confort with them
the new approaching state of History
which if I were to compare it to a frenzied river
the Monarchs are those who without the slightest
doubt have harrowed to the point of collapse
this schizophrenic tragedy.




The Monarchs know this all too well
and indeed one of them who is still alive
with his spectres secreted beneath his white uniform
will play his part in the performance
which is in conformity with all artistic contingencies
and will topple so many idols
even demilish the Astronomical view of the Universe.




You were right to bring Heaven back
to the World's stage...
because it had become utterly revolting and gross...



Moreover Heaven had distanced itself
from my heart as well...
and indeed because of this distancing
it seems to me it is I who have made the mistake.




The moment I found myself caught up in the resolve
of the Defeated
to once more appear on the solid ground of History
I should have suggested that the director of the performance
incorporate into the work a scene
which dealt with the Ethos and Breeding transmitted
by the patrons and boot-lickers of the Palace.




Because by the time the Sovereign is able to feel
once more King
the Defeated will have slipped out of my control
and on one of the unsullied areas of the Planet
Hell acting along with Paradise will wage
within a single hour a life and death war
so that just a few moments before the sun rises
the procedure
for the conquest of the Throne
will have come to an end.




The Victor will make it understood
to those there
that it is not mere chance
that he is the one assuming the Throne
at precisely the moment
when the Sun is coming into the World.


Whatever happens
his authority thought it sink at evening
will be returned again by nature at dawn.




After this intrepid rationalisation
regarding the things of the World
thousands of proposals will be made to me
for press interviews
literary appearances
and other such contemporary trivialities....




But I would not want to look at
the Sun of this foul authority
and in full flood of mourning
I would pull back into the dark
in order to forese
the coming tragedies of this World.




Translation by


PHILIP RAMP