Παρασκευή 7 Σεπτεμβρίου 2012

A free mobbed


They thought they squeezed me
In a dark cell
Without food
Without water
Without air
Without light
The silly….
I’ve already escaped
The moment that they didn’t take from me
That blue notebook and the old pencil….

Kostas Bouzas: 1993
Τranslation: G. Matraka

Peace


Peace,
Primitive sparkle in mind
Figure invisible in the glance.

Peace,
Moments breathe without start and end
Lonely flower lost in the labyrinth of the city
Plashing surrounded by some purple clouds

Peace,
White motif of passing-by pigeons,
Corolla bright in every sun’s crown.

Kostas Bouzas: 1994
Τranslation: G. Matraka

The Landscape


Have you ever noticed the waves?
They go up like deities and only then, for one moment they acquire
Consciousness of their power.
Sometimes grey, sometimes green but always threatening.
Certainly you feel something the moment 
when they meet each other
On the rock, (with madness) in order to crave them deeper.
Later when they will break in pieces with nonchalance
And they will leave, too, then, try
To see in the luminosity of the sun
Some drops which are lost in the rock’s jags
I adore them! 

Kostas Bouzas :1993
Τranslation: G. Matraka

Iron tears


They melted me in the foundry
They poured me in stamps
They hit me on the anvil
They shaped me….
Consequently, irrevocably?
Always there is the oxygen’s flame
Or something like that.

Kostas Bouzas: 1993
Τranslation: G. Matraka

Eye witness


A star is blowing out tonight,
Don’t feel sorry
Every life has its own beginning and end.
The stars couldn’t be an exception
Besides, think, their colour needs years and years to reach here
Furthermore, when you saw it for the first time
It was already dead….

Kostas Bouzas: 1993
Τranslation: G. Matraka