Nikos Gatsos / Νϊκος Γκάτσος

How much I loved you, I alone know it
I who once touched you with the eyes of the Pleiades
And with the mane of the moon I embraced you and we danced in the
summer meadows
on the mowed reeds and together we ate the clover which had been cut
Big black sea with so many pebbles all around on the neck so many colored
precious stones in your hair.

A ship comes onto the shore, a rusted treadmill groans
A tuft of blue smoke in the rosiness of the horizon
Just the same as the wing of the crane which tears
Armies of swallows wait to tell the brave ones their welcome
Arms are lifted up, naked, with anchors incised in the armpit
The shouts of children are confused with the warbling of the west wind
Bees go in and out of the nostrils of the cows
Kerchiefs from Kalamata wave in the air
And a faraway church bell dyes the sky with indigo
Like the voice of some gong traveling among the stars
So many centuries gone
From the soul of the Goths and the domes of Baltimore
And from the lost Hagia Sofia the great monastery.
But atop the high mountains who might they be, those who watch
With unruffled gaze and serene face?
What conflagration is echoed by this dust in the air?
Is the month of Kalivas at war with the month of Brave John?
Maybe the Germans got caught up in enmity with the people of Mani?
Neither Kalivas fights nor Brave John;
Nor did the Germans get caught up in enmity with the people of Mani
Towers silently guard a haunted princess
The peaks of cypresses accompany a dead anemone
Calm shepherds sing their morning song with the reed of a linden tree
A thoughtless hunter fires his rifle at the turtledoves
And an old windmill, forgotten by everyone
With a dolphin’s needle sews his rotten sails alone
And comes down from the slopes with the favorable northwest wind
The way Adonis came down the paths of the Chelmos to wish Golfo a good evening.

(Translation: Eva Johanos)

Ἕνα καράβι μπαίνει στὸ γιαλὸ ἕνα μαγγανοπήγαδο σκουριασμένο βογγάει
Μιὰ τούφα γαλανὸς καπνὸς μὲς στὸ τριανταφυλλὶ τοῦ ὁρίζοντα
Ἴδιος μὲ τὴ φτερούγα τοῦ γερανοῦ ποὺ σπαράζει
Στρατιὲς χελιδονιῶν περιμένουνε νὰ ποῦν στοὺς ἀντρειωμένους τὸ καλωσόρισες
Μπράτσα σηκώνουνται γυμνὰ μὲ χαραγμένες ἄγκυρες στὴ μασχάλη
Μπερδεύουνται κραυγὲς παιδιῶν μὲ τὸ κελάδημα τοῦ πουνέντε
Μέλισσες μπαινοβγαίνουνε μὲς στὰ ρουθούνια τῶν ἀγελάδων
Μαντήλια καλαματιανὰ κυματίζουνε
Καὶ μία καμπάνα μακρινὴ βάφει τὸν οὐρανὸ μὲ λουλάκι
Σὰν τὴ φωνὴ κάποιου σήμαντρου ποὺ ταξιδεύει μέσα στ᾿ ἀστέρια
Τόσους αἰῶνες φευγάτο
Ἀπὸ τῶν Γότθων τὴν ψυχὴ κι ἀπὸ τοὺς τρούλλους τῆς Βαλτιμόρης
Κι ἀπ᾿ τὴ χαμένη Ἁγια-Σοφιὰ τὸ μέγα μοναστήρι.
Μὰ πάνω στ᾿ ἀψηλὰ βουνὰ ποιοὶ νά ῾ναι αὐτοὶ ποὺ κοιτᾶνε
Μὲ τὴν ἀκύμαντη ματιὰ καὶ τὸ γαλήνιο πρόσωπο;
Ποιᾶς πυρκαγιᾶς νά ῾ναι ἀντίλαλος αὐτὸς ὁ κουρνιαχτὸς στὸν ἀγέρα;
Μήνα ὁ Καλύβας πολεμάει μήνα ὁ Λεβεντογιάννης;
Μήπως ἀμάχη ἐπιάσανεν οἱ Γερμανοὶ μὲ τοὺς Μανιάτες;
Οὐδ᾿ ὁ Καλύβας πολεμάει κι οὐδ᾿ ὁ Λεβεντογιάννης
Οὔτε κι ἀμάχη ἐπιάσανεν οἱ Γερμανοὶ μὲ τοὺς Μανιάτες.
Πύργοι φυλᾶνε σιωπηλοὶ μία στοιχειωμένη πριγκίπισσα
Κορφὲς κυπαρισσιῶν συντροφεύουνε μία πεθαμένη ἀνεμώνη
Τσοπαναρέοι ἀτάραχοι μ᾿ ἕνα καλάμι φλαμουριᾶς λένε τὸ πρωινό τους τραγούδι
Ἕνας ἀνόητος κυνηγὸς ρίχνει μία ντουφεκιὰ στὰ τρυγόνια
Κι ἕνας παλιὸς ἀνεμόμυλος λησμονημένος ἀπ᾿ ὅλους
Μὲ μία βελόνα δελφινιοῦ ράβει τὰ σάπια του πανιὰ μοναχός του
Καὶ κατεβαίνει ἀπ᾿ τὶς πλαγιὲς μὲ τὸν καράγιαλη πρίμα
Ὅπως κατέβαινε ὁ Ἄδωνις στὰ μονοπάτια τοῦ Χελμοῦ νὰ πεῖ μία καλησπέρα τῆς Γκόλφως.

Poet, lyricist and translator, Nikos Gatsos stands apart in the annals of Greek literature. With only one poetic composition in his career, the excellent and unsurpassed “Amorgos,” which he wrote during the Occupation, he is considered one of our greatest poets.

He was born on December 11, 1911 (according to other sources, on the 30th of April 1915), in Chania Frankovrysis (Lower Asea) Arcadia. He finished elementary school in the village and middle school in Tripoli, where he was initiated in literature and learned foreign languages by himself. Subsequently he moved with his family to Athens, where he studied literature at the University of Athens. In the beginning of the 1930s he published his first poems in the magazine ‘New Origins’ (1931) and ‘Rhythm’ (1933). He already knew English and French rather well and he had studied Palamas, Solomos, traditional songs, as well as the new trends in European poetry.

In 1943 he circulated his poetic composition “Amorgos,” which provoked intense interest and gave him a conspicuous position in the pantheon of Greek poets. It is said that this long poem was written in one night with the system of “automatic writing” which is used by Surrealists in their creative process.

“A memorable work of Modern Greek letters,” said his close friend Manos Hatzidakis of ‘Amorgos,’ “because it contains the deepest sense of Greek tradition, it does not exploit it, and at the same time it contains the European military service of the period between the wars.” With ‘Amorgos’ the first cycle of Greek hyperrealism closes and is fulfilled, which had begun with Nikita Ranto, early Elytis, Embiriko and Engonopoulo.

From then until his death, Gatsos published only three poems: ‘Elegy,’ (1946), “‘The Knight and Death,’ (1947), and the’Song of the Old Time’ (1963.) His lyric vein he poured into the words of songs, often abolishing the boundary between poetry and songwriting. His work is impressive both in its quantity and its quality. Mikis Theodorakis, Manos Hatzidakis, Stavros Xarhakos, Dimos Moutsis, Loukianos Kelaidonis and other composers put melodies to his verses, which were sung by popular singers and became big hits. . . His translation work is also important, which also was tested by the stage. He translated for the National Theater, the Theater of Art and the Popular Theater [ works of ]..Federico Garcia Lorca. . .August Strindberg. . . Eugene O’Neill. . . Lope de Vega . . .[and] Tennessee Williams.

Σπουδαίο είναι και το μεταφραστικό του έργο, το οποίο δοκιμάστηκε επί σκηνής. Μετέφρασε για λογαριασμό του Εθνικού Θεάτρου, του Θεάτρου Τέχνης και του Λαϊκού Θεάτρου, Φεντερίκο Γκαρθία Λόρκα («Ματωμένος Γάμος», «Το Σπίτι της Μπερνάρντα Άλμπα»), Αύγουστο Στρίνμπεργκ («Ο Πατέρας»), Ευγένιο Ο’ Νηλ («Ταξίδι μακριάς ημέρας μέσα στη νύχτα»), Λόπε ντε Βέγκα («Φουέντε Οβεχούνα») και Τενεσί Ουίλιαμς («Λεωφορείο ο Πόθος»).

Έτσι κοιμάται ολόγυμνη
μια τρυφερή μου αγάπη