Kostas Makedonas / Κώστας Μακεδόνας

Kosma and Damianou, stuck in my head
is how will I forget you-
because even if I am afraid, the depth of the night
I will embrace
and right between the eyes, the doctors of the night
they will watch me
for if I grow tired, with whom will I share
eyes dripping with tears?

Who can bear to scatter lightning bolts-
Who has the time- take a look and tell me-
Who knows to light my candle,
and if they know, who can?
Who can bear to burn the past for me-
Who has time for an embrace-
Who knows how to kiss with a kiss-
Who knows more?

Kosma and Damianou of the time of others
I will still love you
And I will be there with you every Sunday
We will dissolve on the mattress
the hidden and secret loans of love
like dates**
which hide recipes for old wounds
and acts of God***

Who can bear to scatter lightning bolts-
Who has the time- take a look and tell me-
Who knows to light my candle,
and if they know, who can?
Who can bear to burn the past for me-
Who has time for an embrace-
Who knows how to kiss with a kiss-
Who knows more?

(translation: Eva Johanos
*Saints Kosmas and Damianos are venerated as a type of saint known as Unmercenary Physicians (Greek: ἀνάργυροι, anargyroi, “without money”) they were early Christian brothers in what is now Syria, who attracted adherents to Christianity through their healing arts and were martyred. The writer may be referring to the saints, their feast day, a specific church dedicated to them, a combination of the above or something else entirely.
**dates- specific days of historical time, as on a calendar
***acts of God as in natural disasters)

Once, only once
it’s a pity, it’s a pleasure
At some point we looked at each other
and then we fell in love
and then we met again
Once, only once
For me it was the first time
In troubled water
I learned how to swim
and how to say “yahabibi”*
It was the first time for me

Once, only once
I cried for you, bitterly,
and then I went back to normal
and didn’t phone you
not even once
Once, only once
it’s a pity, it’s a pleasure
And my friends will come round as well
to learn what a fool I made of myself
blood on my lips
once again

Once, only once
it’s enough, seriously now,
for the heart of a human being
to find itself out in the open
crushed, for all to see.

(*”yahabibi”: “sweetheart” in Arabic

I never thought bad things-
never, even if my tears are falling
I hold the pain in my heart, my love
I give you only love…
I never asked for much
I never said harsh things
so why, instead of two kisses, my love
do you give me sadness and worry*

You are hurting the wrong person
you are wounding my heart
every hour that passes, every minute
you say things you shouldn’t
what god allows
your injustice towards me, the one who loves you?

I never acted selfishly
I never said “I’m leaving”-
I exist, here beside you, a lifetime
and I seek your love…

You are hurting the wrong person
you are wounding my heart
every hour that passes, every minute
you say things you shouldn’t
what god allows
your injustice towards me, the one who loves you?

(translation: Eva Johanos
*στεναχώρια- I am translating this word as sadness and worry mixed together; the connotation is such, and the roots of the word-”narrow space” reflect the idea of being oppressed, being constricted in feeling)

A shepherdess I loved,
a coveted young girl,
and I loved her so much
I was a bird with no song
a ten year old boy.

One day as we sat
in the flowering grass,
-Maro, I must tell you something,
Maro, I told her, I love you,
I am crazy about you.

She grabbed me by the waist,
she kissed me on the mouth
and told me: “For sighs,
for the heartbreaks of love
you are still young.”

I grew up and I am asking for her…
another, her heart desires
and she forgets me, the orphan…
I however do not forget
ever her kissing me.

(translation: Eva Johanos)

Μεγάλωσα και την ζητώ…
άλλον ζητά η καρδιά της
και με ξεχνάει τ’ ορφανό…
Εγώ όμως δεν το λησμονώ
ποτέ το φίλημά της.