27 June 2012

summer grass

dry-dry summer grass       ©fourteenth

Stranger, tell the people of *Lacedaemon
That we who lie here obeyed their commands.

Book 7, Ch. 228

*Lacedaemon is the ancient name for Sparta

26 June 2012

Let us be...a poem by Hafiz


Let us be like

Two falling stars in the day sky.

Let no one know of our sublime beauty

As we hold hands with God

And burn

Into a sacred existence that defies -

That surpasses

Every description of ecstasy

And love.


for {you}

24 June 2012

rock wall

The beginning often holds the clue to everything that follows.

John O' Donohue

19 June 2012

light tree


light tree




...shade that quivers to the changeful breeze,
Or the cave's shelter.


O Little Root of a Dream


                        O little root of a dream 
                        you hold me here 
                        undermined by blood, 
                        no longer visible to anyone, 
                        property of death.

                        Curve a face
                        that there may be speech, of earth, 
                        of ardor, of
                        things with eyes, even
                        here, where you read me blind,

                        where you 
                        refute me, 
                        to the letter.

                        Paul Celan

17 June 2012



οἱ ψυχές

© Χρήστος Μαρκίδης, από τη σειρά Ημεροδρόμιο

©Χρήστος Μαρκίδης

Μὰ τί γυρεύουν οἱ ψυχές μας ταξιδεύοντας
πάνω σὲ καταστρώματα κατελυμένων καραβιῶν
στριμωγμένες μὲ γυναῖκες κίτρινες καὶ μωρὰ ποὺ κλαῖνε
χωρὶς νὰ μποροῦν νὰ ξεχαστοῦν οὔτε μὲ τὰ χελιδονόψαρα
οὔτε μὲ τ᾿ ἄστρα ποὺ δηλώνουν στὴν ἄκρη τὰ κατάρτια.
Τριμμένες ἀπὸ τοὺς δίσκους τῶν φωνογράφων
δεμένες ἄθελα μ᾿ ἀνύπαρχτα προσκυνήματα
μουρμουρίζοντας σπασμένες σκέψεις ἀπὸ ξένες γλῶσσες.
Μὰ τί γυρεύουν οἱ ψυχές μας ταξιδεύοντας
πάνω στὰ σαπισμένα θαλάσσια ξύλα
ἀπὸ λιμάνι σὲ λιμάνι;

Γιῶργος Σεφέρης - «Μυθιστόρημα»


What are they after, our souls, travelling
on the decks of decayed ships
crowded in with sallow women and crying babies
unable to forget themselves either with the flying fish
or with the stars that the masts point out at their tips;
grated by gramophone records
committed to non-existent pilgrimages unwillingly
murmuring broken thoughts from foreign languages.

What are they after, our souls, travelling
on rotten brine-soaked timbers
from harbour to harbour?

George Seferis, Mythistorema

15 June 2012

the one word that will protect you...


I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center.

Margaret Atwood

13 June 2012

warm trees


η εικόνα είναι το γεγονός

Χάρης Βλαβιανός

up to the light


Οὐκ ἐμεῦ ἀλλὰ τοῦ λόγου ἀκούσαντας ὁμολογέειν σοφόν ἐστι, ἓν πάντα εἶναι. 


It is wise for those who hear, not me, but the universal Reason, to confess that all things are one.


12 June 2012



Χῶρες τοῦ ἥλιου καὶ δὲν μπορεῖτε ν᾿ ἀντικρίσετε τὸν ἥλιο.
Χῶρες τοῦ ἀνθρώπου καὶ δὲν μπορεῖτε ν᾿ ἀντικρίσετε τὸν ἄνθρωπο.

Γ. Σεφέρης

11 June 2012

(with brightness of peace)


... (with brightness of peace)

love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places

yes is a world
& in this world
of yes live
(skillfully curled)
all worlds

 e. e. cummings

(with thanks to the exceptional blog
love is a place
for inspiration on the title.)

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