Kostas Karyotakis//Κώστας Καρυωτάκης

Posted: 21/09/2016 by vequinox in Literature




Κι ἀκόμα δὲν μπόρεσα νὰ καταλάβω
πῶς μπορεῖ νὰ πεθάνει μία γυναῖκα
ποὺ ἀγαπιέται.

Ἔχει στὸν κῆπο μου μιὰ μυγδαλιὰ φυτρώσει
κι εἶν᾿ ἔτσι τρυφερὴ ποὺ μόλις ἀνασαίνει·
μὰ ἡ κάθε μέρα, ἡ κάθε αὐγὴ τηνε μαραίνει
καὶ τὴ χαρὰ τοῦ ἀνθοῦ της δὲ θὰ μοῦ δώσει.

Κι ἀλοίμονό μου! ἐγὼ τῆς ἔχω ἀγάπη τόση…
Κάθε πρωὶ κοντά της πάω καὶ γονατίζω
καὶ μὲ νεράκι καὶ μὲ δάκρυα τὴν ποτίζω
τὴ μυγδαλιὰ πού ῾χει στὸν κῆπο μου φυτρώσει.

Ἄχ, τῆς ζωούλας της τὸ ψέμα θὰ τελειώσει·
ὅσα δὲν ἔχουν πέσει, θὰ τῆς πέσουν φύλλα
καὶ τὰ κλαράκια της θὲ ν᾿ ἀπομείνουν ξύλα.
Τὴν ἄνοιξη τοῦ ἀνθοῦ της δὲ θὰ μοῦ δώσει

Κι ὅμως ἐγὼ ὁ φτωχὸς τῆς εἶχ᾿ ἀγάπη τόση…




And I haven’t yet understood

how a woman who’s loved can die


An almond tree has grown in my garden

most tender and just breathing

as every morning, every day wilts

the joy of its blossom it won’t give me


and alas, that I love it so

every morning I walk to it and kneel

with tears and water I water

the almond that has grown in my garden


oh, the lie of its little life will end

all leaves still hanging will fall

its branches wood they’ll become

the blossom of its spring it won’t give me


and I the poor loved it most tenderly


Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη//translated by Manolis Aligizakis


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