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Subject Nobility, by Kostas Karyotakis

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ELPENOR EDITIONS IN PRINT

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Publication 308 By absent-minded on Tuesday, May 28, 2002 at 10:54   
Location: Greece   Registered: Friday, June 29, 2001  Posts: -166    Search for other posts by absent-minded Search   Quote
Make an harp of your pain.
And become like a nightingale,
and become like a flower.
When bitter years arrive
make an harp of your pain
and make of it a song.

Don't wrap your wound
but only with rose-branches.
Lustful I give you myrrh
- for balm - and drugs.
Don't wrap your wound,
and your blood a purple.

Keep saying to Gods "may I be quenched!"
but hold the glass.
Despise your days when
they become a feast for you.
Keep saying to Gods "may I be quenched!"
but say it with a smile.

Make an harp of your pain.
And refresh the lips
at the lips of your wound.
At a dawn, at a sunset,
make an harp of your pain
and smile and be quenched.

-
Translated by Wanderer
You can see also the Greek original

Publication 322 By ayye^os on Wednesday, June 5, 2002 at 14:58   
Location: Germany   Registered: Tuesday, May 28, 2002  Posts: 6    Search for other posts by ayye^os Search   Quote
With sincere thanks to "absent-minded"
and to Karyotakis, whom I followed freely.

Auf schmerzgespannten wunden Nerven
erfinde ich mein Harfenspiel.
Ich leide und es sprießen Blumen,
es singen Nachtigallen viel.
Die Lieder klingen und verwerfen
die Bitternis und ihre Zeit.

Ich habe mich so aufgerieben,
daß mir nun Rosendornen zart
wie ein Verband erscheinen mögen.
Wie ihr den Sinnen hilfreich wart,
ihr Blumendüfte, mir so lieben!
Ich tränke euch mit meinem Blut.

Wie euch, so mag' man mich nun pflücken.
Ja, Gott, der Vasentod ist mein!
Solange noch mit mir die Freude
am Blühen lebt, so soll es sein!
Das Lachen soll mich noch entrücken,
das jenem Letzten widerstrebt.

Wie weh es tat, ich hab's gelitten.
Gewandelt hat es sich mit mir.
Vernichtung wird zur letzten Quelle
und kühlt und tränkt noch gnädig hier.
Woran noch jüngst die Finger glitten,
verharrt nun starr und still, ist tot.
Nur Sehnsucht war's, die ich dir gab.
Mein Lied, wir singen uns ins Grab.
----

Publication 323 By absent-minded on Thursday, June 6, 2002 at 14:11   
Location: Greece   Registered: Friday, June 29, 2001  Posts: -166    Search for other posts by absent-minded Search   Quote
If all of us could follow with such poetic freedom as yours, we'd live in Paradise already!

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ELPENOR EDITIONS IN PRINT
The Original Greek New Testament

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