Wednesday, January 05, 2011

A poem from GREECE


Poet’s garden is a small heaven on Earth

for inspiration, flowering and fruitfulness.

It is an extension of sun lounge,

a wide view into the open sea

and with open horizon eastwards.

A few fruit trees,

green laying out bushes

and many colorful fragrant flowers.

All they are his long personal choice.

Every tree with its symbolism.

Fir tree, almond tree, olive tree, apple tree,

walnut tree, fig tree, pomegranate tree and laurel.

A big climbing vine and other small vines

have a special place

in his garden and in his heart.

Currant, “fileri”, Muscat, sour grapes and siderites

are some of his favorite eatable variety of grapes.

But there is not a garden – orchard without flowers.

Climbing roses on fences, daisies,

chrysanthemums, cyclamens of field,

sunflowers, narcissus, hyacinths,

violets, dahlias, chamomile, poppies,

anemones, freesia, origan, tea and other.

Big and small earthen flower pots,

with basil, carnations, gardenias, geraniums

and marjoram

give other dimensions in the garden’s beauty.

They create not only a superabundance of aesthetics.

The garden tools (hoe, mattock, pick,

rake), the pruning hook, the saw

and the hedge clippers

in the hands of poet – gardener,

intervene masterly, with patience

and they shape the garden

on a daily and seasonal basis.

An annual frantic feast

of colors, sounds and fragrances.

Birdsongs, buzz of the bees

and many other insects,

babble of water, rustling of leaves,

a unique sight and a listening experience.

Season succeeds season,

with their distinguishing marks.

Early spring and dewdrops,

winter frosts and flakes of snow

and the poet experiences with his senses

the changes of nature.

Pensively, he is walking

with his head bent on the ground,

he goes to and fro.

He looks like swinging

in the space and time.

Often he stops, observes,

he smells a flower,

he tastes a fruit,

he chats with the trees

the butterflies and loquacious birds.

He dreams with open eyes

and he takes off for new creations,

according to the stimuli and the weather,

sometimes he lies in the sun

and shrinks in a place sheltered from the wind,

sometimes he comes back in a hurry

to his permanent and favorite chair,

under the deep shade, climbing vine

near to a stone fountain.

There, it awaits him the round, country, red table,

full of leaves, flowers, books, copybooks, pencils

and he is getting ready to write.

He drinks a swig of medium – sweet Greek coffee,

he makes some notes and rubs out some other.

He spends countless creative hours

in his garden

in this cool place,

cultivating, reading and writing.

Blessed poet,

now and for ever,

your garden is in flower,

your mind creates.



(A poem from his collection of poetry “SUNFLOWERS”)

English translation by Zacharoula Gaitanaki, IWA.

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