Alekos Panagoulis / Αλεξανδρος Παναγουλης

When I first heard him he spoke about lightning bolts
about a rain, about a paradise on earth
he made us regret that we went to war
that we deprived those in pain of a smile
that we mistreated joy
that we were unjust towards justice
Another time he spoke to us about a gathering of people
and he said that all those cultured and educated people
who speak the language of saving the world
did not manage to learn the language of the birds,
of the flowers, of the stars
while those with open hands speak about love and kindness
he spoke to us about memory and about resurrection,
freedom and the suffering of humanity
about the peace that will come
and those weapons, the knives and swords
he read Isaiah to us
how they will become tools to work the earth
they killed the man, the person who loved
the flowers the birds
the gardens and the trees
the flowers the birds.
Those [beings] felt more bitterly the loss of him
why they killed him no one knows
that is what the spring told me, in sorrow.

(translation: Eva Johanos)

γιατί τον σκότωσαν κανείς δεν το ξέρει
αυτό μου είπε η άνοιξη λυπημένη.

“he spoke to us about memory, about rebirth,
about the peace which will come…

words, music: Kostas Hadzis
poetry: Alexandros Panagoulis

they killed the man, the person who loved
the flowers the birds
the gardens the trees
the flowers the birds.
Those [beings] felt more bitterly the loss of him…

to the memory of the last hero
Alexandros Panagoulis

From Mayday of 1976 there have passed thirty-six years.
The values for which Panagoulis struggled have been pushed to the side.
Nominal elections will be held- while the Americans
bomb whichever city they wish.

All human beings are equal- but the people of the West
get wealthy from the hunger of the rest of their equal fellow human beings.
The first dead did not receive as an answer the roar of battle
But the hum of televisions and buzzwords
of the political parties of the youth for perpetual prime ministers.

Anyway, they say, the old fight ended.
Now no great king
has no old scores to settle with anyone.
Nowadays we live in the time of peace….
so they say.

But somewhere in the depths of nighttime despair,
in the unbearable wasteland of a crowd
which learned to go to bed with small doses under the tongue of
“adapted logic”,
wherein the rich live and the poor die,
an old spasm pierces our mind,
sets fire to what are dreams in name only, destroys our night.

The hungry, the tortured, the exiled,
the immigrants, the disinherited and scorned
which always stand outside the brave new world
and wait.
As many as go to the window,
sometimes they see their dim shadow.
And someone, dead for thiry-six years,
breathes steam on the window.”

(translation: Eva Johanos)

Οι πεινασμένοι, οι βασανισμένοι, οι εξόριστοι,
οι μετανάστες, οι απόκληροι και καταφρονεμένοι
του πάντοτε θαυμαστού καινούριου κόσμου
στέκουν εκεί έξω και περιμένουν.
Όσοι πηγαίνουν στο παράθυρο,
κάποτε βλέπουν τους θαμπούς ίσκιους τους.
Και κάποιος, τριανταέξι χρόνια πεθαμένος,
χνωτίζει το τζάμι…

Red Rose
Lyrics & Music: Mikis Theodorakis
(song dedicated to Aleko Panagoulis)

Every morning we were setting off to go to work
we laughed in the bus, we were two kids

Red rose, the sunset is red

One morning, we left together, for the war
we were singing, together, we were fighting, together

Red rose, the sunset is red

You got killed in May, your blood was purple
it painted the skies black and the times red

Red rose, the sunset is red

Along with you, everything was killed, dreams, ideals
we all became ghosts, we live conventionally

Red rose, the sunset is red

Now the flags became, trading goods
the dreams are innocent, ready for consumption

Red rose, the sunset is red

Τώρα οι σημαίες γενήκανε είδη εμπορικά
Είναι τα όνειρα αγαθά καταναλωτικά
Κόκκινο τριαντάφυλλο, κόκκινο το δειλινό