Yannis Ritsos-Poems, Selected Books, Volume II

Yannis Ritsos-Poems, Selected Books, Volume II

ΙΣΜΗΝΗ///ISMENE

Τί κατάλαβαν, θε μου, τί κέρδισαν; Τα άλλα τα ξέρετε.
Δεν απόμεινε τίποτα. Μόνο η πέτρινη Σφίγγα πάνω στο βράχο
έξω απ’ τις πύλες των Θηβών, αδιάφορη, απερίσπαστη —
δε θέτει πια ερωτήματα. Κόπασε ο μάταιος θόρυβος. Άδειασε ο χρόνος.
Μια ατέλειωτη Κυριακή με κλεισμένα παράθυρα. Απίστευτο
τα βράδια του καλοκαιριού να ποτίζουν ακόμη τους κήπους.

Μια τάφρος σιωπής — όπως είπατε. Κοιτάχτε, βγήκε το φεγγάρι.
Ακούγεται έξω και το σιντριβάνι. Δεν το ακούτε; Τα χέρια σας
διατηρούν ακόμη τους ωραίους ρόζους της αγροτικής δουλειάς. Ελπίζω
να μη μείνετε μονίμως στο στρατό. Σαν λήξει η θητεία σας
επιστρέψτε στα κτήματα, κοντά στον πατέρα σας. Η πόρτα ετούτη
οδηγεί κατευθείαν στο διαμέρισμά μου. Ο διάδρομος που βγάζει στο νότο
δε φρουρείται ποτέ. Χτυπήστε εφτά φορές. Μεσάνυχτα. Θα σας ανοίξω.
Θα ’θελα να σας δώσω κάτι μικροπράματα για τον πατέρα σας.

Κάτι κοστούμια του Αίμονα —τα ’χω κρατήσει στη ντουλάπα—
θα σας πηγαίνουν μια χαρά φαντάζομαι. Και το καινούργιο του ξίφος,
από χρυσάφι, ελεφαντόδοντο, ρουμπίνια, — δεν πρόφτασε

να το ζώσει στη μέση του. Είναι όμορφη η νύχτα. Προσέχτε τη σκάλα.

Oh God, what did they gain, what they understood? You know

all the rest. Nothing is left. Only the stony Sphinx on the rock,

outside the walls of Thebes, indifferent, undistracted, she doesn’t

ask any questions anymore. All the noisy clatter stopped. Time

has emptied. An endless Sunday with shut window shutters.

Unbelievable, that they still water the gardens in the summer

evenings.

A moat of silence, as you said. Look, the moon is up. You can hear

the fountain in the courtyard. Don’t you hear it? Your hands still

retain the callouses of the farm work. I hope you won’t stay

in the army for too long. When you get released go back to the fields,

close to your father. This door leads straight to my quarters. The

hallway that leads to the south is always unguarded. Knock seven

times. I’ll open for you. I’d like to give you a few small things for

your father.

A few suits of Heamon, I’ve kept them in the closet, they might

fit you, I imagine, and his new sword made of rubies, gold, and

elephant tusk, he died before he could fasten it around his waist.

The night is peaceful. Be careful with the stairs.

Swamped, a novel by Manolis Aligizakis

Rebecca smiled back. “I’ll give you something you won’t forget … but not here,” she laughed, her promiscuous lips playing with his eyes, her easy laughter exciting him. Reaching under the table he placed a hand between her legs and squeezed before saying, “I could do the same to you right now, my love.”

Rebecca trembled slightly as she reverted to business for a moment. “I’ll start the registration process tomorrow and think of a couple more names for you too. When I have an approval on the name, we’ll do the rest of the papers.”

They had almost finished their meals by now, and the wine was almost done as well. Rebecca was ready for other things, and so was Eteo. He called the server to bring the check, and still playing with Rebecca’s legs, he said, “Now, that was what I wanted to hear. Get the wheels moving and keep me abreast of what comes next. Meanwhile I’ll start doing my side of things.”

Eteo took care of the check and they got up. On the way out he asked Rebecca not to go back to her office, took her arm, and walked south on Howe Street to the Four Seasons, where he registered for a room and ordered a bottle of red wine. In the elevator they hugged and kissed, and a moment later they were in room 1923. Room service brought the wine while Rebecca was in the bathroom freshening up. Eteo poured two glasses and waited expectantly. When Rebecca emerged from the bathroom, smiling and attractive, she accepted her glass, she clinked it against Eteo’s and took a sip. Eteo then went to the bathroom, and while he was there, Rebecca took off her clothes and slipped into bed, where Eteo soon joined her.

Her body was inviting and her skin like silk to his touch. They kissed for a long time as Rebecca got fired up. Finally, she took his firmness and played with it as Eteo kissed her lips, neck, and nipples. By now she wanted him wildly. She got on top of him and played her erotic music with lithe movements in different directions, riding her sexuality to its apex once, twice, with exhilarating moaning and wild spasms. Then she whispered to him, “Be careful, I don’t take anything these days and I wouldn’t like to get pregnant,” and getting off him she lay next to him. Eteo turned her on her back and placed himself at her back door. She said, “Yes, better there,” and as he took her from behind, she frantically played with her clit, producing wild spasms of erotic consummation again and again until they both lay back, exhausted and sweaty.

“Oh, my love, what a great date this is,” Rebecca sighed, kissing his neck while her finger followed the line of his lips.

“Sweet Rebecca, how beautiful you make me feel every time, and today even more so. Tell me it was as wild for you as it was for me?”

“Yes, very much so, my love,” Rebecca assured him.

“I’m so happy to hear that, my love,” Eteo replied.

Θάνος Γώγος, Δύο ποιήματα

To Koskino

ΑΣΦΥΞΙΑ

(Το κλίμα μπορεί να ξεγελά
μα ο συγκεκριμένος προορισμός
κάθε άλλο παρά ενδείκνυται για ασθματικούς.)

Οι πόρτες κλείνουν.

Τα πρόσωπα στο μετρό ανέκφραστα ως είναι
αρνούνται να δώσουν πνοή, μεταφέροντας από τις ψυχές
το ξηρό μήνυμα της στειρότητας.

Οι πόρτες ανοίγουν.

και τα σώματα στο δρόμο ακέφαλα φαντάζουν,
πεισματικά απρόθυμα να εκτελέσουν το κενό του νου
αποθνήσκουν κάθε δευτερόλεπτο στην ρουτίνα της μητρόπολης.

Το ένα πίσω απ’ τ΄ άλλο διατεταγμένα,
ομοιόμορφα, με τάξη και σεμνά,
ασφυκτιούν σε βήμα στρατιωτικής παρελάσεως
Καθώς οδηγούνται στο χώμα.

Τα κουφάρια τους θα θρέψουν τα κτήνη που κινούν τα νήματα.

*

ΑΙΞΥΣΦΑ

Στα ζείδωρα μονοπάτια της τσιμεντούπολης
κρύβεται η ομορφιά.
Εκεί φωλιάζει η ζωή κυνηγημένη.

-στο πάρκο τα βράδια-
-ο άνεμος ελευθεριακά φυσά…-

Καθώς το κοριτσάκι με σκέρτσο
δείχνει το άλφα σε κύκλο,
τ΄ άνθη αυθαίρετα φυτρώνουν
στην πέτρα και σκίζουν την πέτρα…

*Από τη συλλογή “Αποδράσεις”, Ιούνης-Νοέμβρης 2010, Λάρισα.

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