Kornaros's Classic Poem in Longhand by (an 12-year old resident of Crete) Manolis Emmanuel Aligizakis
Greek Canadian Literature Libros Libertad Manolis Aligizakis
Cradle
You think I’m of a different era
born on an imaginary date
a shadow searching for its roots
in the passing footprints of a vague movement
You think I’m the soul of another soul
the tear of another eye
the wandering of a myth
during the time of another youth.
III
Thick worms of the army washrooms
gigantic rats from the septic tanks
they search the sacks for bread all night long
they step over faces,
the eaten face of a cat.
The day roosts on the mountain like a raven
the night falls when the soldiers masturbate
the night patrols and the tail movements.
Under the moonlight
two were going at each other
behind the washrooms.
One of them had a wife and children
and one called Skarvellas put his rotten face
in my sleep to see whether I was singing.
Mycenae
Ancient ground under your feet
subterranean impulses once
alive and a wild pear tree
ponders her forlornness
in the arms of wind standing
ghosts of prehistory relics
modern mysteries unfold
as you tread rained polished
stones no need for chisels hammers
anointing oil burlap
sigh escapes unnoticed
by lonely wild pear tree
by the ghosts of Agamemnon
and unfaithful Clytemnestra
Dareios
The poet Fernazis composes
an important passage of his epic poem.
How Dareios, son of Hystaspis, took
over the kingdom of Persia. (Our glorious
King Mithridates, called Dionysos and
Eupator descends from him. But here
he needs philosophy; he must analyze
the feelings Dareios must have had:
perhaps arrogance and intoxication, but no,
rather, an understanding of the futility of grandeur.
The poet thinks seriously about this issue.
But he is interrupted by his servant, who enters
running and announces the bad news.
The war against the Romans has started.
Most of our armies have crossed the border.
The poet is dumbfounded. What a catastrophe!
Because now our glorious king Mithridates,
called Dionysos and Eupator, won’t care
to occupy himself with Greek poems
during war; imagine, Greek poems.
Fernazis is impatient. Bad luck!
Just as he was certain that with “Dareios.”
he would become famous, and he would
be able to shut for good the mouths
of his most envious critics.
What an upset, what a setback to his plans.
And if it were just the setback, it would still be okay.
But let us see whether we are going to have
security in Amisos. It is not a well-fortified city.
The Romans are the most horrible enemies.
Can we, the Cappadokians, get the best
of them? Is this possible?
Can we really fight against the legions now?
Great Gods, protectors of Asia, help us.
But in all his agitation and distress,
the poetic idea persistently comes and goes;
the most probable, of course, is arrogance and intoxication.
Yes, Dareios must have felt arrogance and intoxication.
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 