Sotiria Bellou / Σωτηρία Μπέλλου

Don’t you cry and don’t get sad that evening comes
we who have lived as poor men
the rain of the world doesn’t bother us
we that live by ourselves

Our houses are low
like desolate barracks
our summers are short
and the winters endless

Don’t cry and don’t fear the darkness
we who have lived as poor men
the cruelty of the world doesn’t scare us
it will come for us, too, a Sunday

Our houses are low
like desolate barracks
our summers are short
and the winters endless

Τα σπίτια είναι χαμηλά
σαν έρημοι στρατώνες
τα καλοκαίρια μας μικρά
κι ατέλειωτοι οι χειμώνες

The workers left and you left with them
and I remained alone, waiting for you
With a song in my bitter mouth
and a flower in the water

Come to learn in Vathis Square
Come to learn the life I am living
Come to sit beside me and cry
one evening at the end of Acharnon [Street]
Come to learn in Vathis Square
Come to learn the life I am living

It was becoming night, and the heavy darkness was falling
when you told me, “I’m leaving, farewell”
Years and years scorned
heart burned by the forest fire

[translation: Eva Johanos]

He will try me, the cuckoo, and the nightingale
but in Agiaso my little golden cross
the nights when the white snow is falling
the Tsetes will hang Christ

In the heavens which we make a ceiling
we don’t see a starry sky at night
Corsairs, Franks, Venetians
sold us for grosia and florins

In Troy they grow wheat
and in Agiaso in a deserted church
Theofilos painted with blood
Charon wearing light blue

(translation: Eva Johanos)

Στην Τροία μεγαλώνουνε τα στάχυα
και στην Αγιάσο σε μιαν έρμη εκκλησιά
ζωγράφισε ο Θεόφιλος με αίμα
το χάρο να φοράει θαλασσιά

The hand pointed to eight
on the clock of the world
your dark eyes
full of complaints
on your unkissed lips
heavy, the lament

Transient and speechless
and leaving life
Either God must be unjust
or this world must be a dud

I walked and walked,
but how could I stop?
The roads are magic threads
They have their journeys closed off
to you they bring me
and they return me back again

Transient and speechless
and leaving life
Either God must be unjust
or this world must be a dud

(translation: Eva Johanos)

Tough beanpole, the weather you carry with you;
your life is a semi, with baggage and insurance.
Now you have gotten yourself a shell, and a sportscar
now you’ve dug into a difficult place and you wear a different hat.

Your life is two-faced, inside and what you wear on the outside;
your heart is a gas-stove without gas or air.
You are in the thick of it, and you escape by a hair;
now you are well taken-care of, and they have stopped your cough.

And if you remember the old times, lies and blah blah blah;
your tough guy act is mothballs, with cashmere and patent leather
Now you make dark jokes and eat from the spoon,
now the mousetrap has jammed and they have put you in a fishbowl.

(translation: Eva Johanos)

Wake up, my little one, and listen
to some minor song of the dawn,
for you it has been written
from the cry of some soul.

Open your window
throw me one sweet glance
and then let me be extinguished
before your house, on a street corner.

(translation: Eva Johanos)

Το παραθύρι σου άνοιξε
ρίξε μου μια γλυκιά ματιά
Κι ας σβήσω πια τότε, μικρό μου,
μπροστά στο σπίτι σου σε μια γωνιά.

You are my man
the heartache, the hidden one
if I lose you I will die
from the world I will disappear.

You are my man
my heart’s joy
if you leave me believe me
it will drown me, the misfortune.

You are my man
the heart I love
the candle* of my life
which if extinguished will cause me to go out as well.

(translation: Eva Johanos)