Monthly Archives: August 2022

Ὁ Παρθενῶνας -Διθύραμβος- (Ναπολέων Λαπαθιώτης)

Ὁ Παρθενῶνας -Διθύραμβος- (Ναπολέων Λαπαθιώτης)

[Γραμμένο ἕνα δειλινὸ ἐπάνω στὰ σκαλοπάτια τοῦ Παρθενῶνος].

Τὸ Μέτωπο εἶμ’ Ἑγώ.-

Καὶ τῶν κακῶν Μου ὀχτρῶνὉ Παρθενῶνας -Διθύραμβος- (Ναπολέων Λαπαθιώτης) ἡ βαρβαρότη,

Τῶν ὀχτρῶν Μου ἡ μάνητα καὶ τ’ ἄχτι,-
Κι’ ὅ,τι κακὸ Μοῦ βουληθήκανε -ὅ,τι-
Συντρίμια ὀμπρός Μου, καὶ τρίψαλα, καὶ στάχτη.
Γιατί τὸ Μέτωπο εἶμ’ Ἐγώ…

Κυττάω βαρειὰ κι’ ὁλοῦθε.-
Κι’ ὁλοῦθε τὴ ματιά Μου Ἐγὼ τὴ στέλνω

Καὶ τὴ στέλνω ὡς τὰ γλυκόθαμπα πελάη
ὅπου τὸ ἡλιόγεμα πικρό κατασταλάει,-
Κι’ ὡς τ’ ἄϋλα κορφοβούνια Ἐγὼ τὴ στέλνω,
Καὶ γιὰ μανδύα -τὰ χρυσᾶ τἄστρα παίρνω.
Γιατί τὸ Μέτωπο εἶμ’ Ἐγώ, εἶμ’ Ἐγώ…

Τιτανικὸ Λουλούδι Ἐγώ.-
Κι’ ἀπὸ τὰ βύθη τῶν Αἰώνων ἀναδίνω,
-Κ’ εἶμαι ἡ Πέτρα, ἡ Σκέψι, καὶ τὸ Μάρμαρο -τὸ Κρῖνο.
Κι’ οὔτε θὰ μαραθῇ, οὕτε θὰ σαλέψῃ
Τὸ Μάρμαρο – τὸ Κρίνο, ἡ Πέτρα – ἡ Σκέψι.
Καὶ θυμᾶμαι, τ’ ἀλαργινὰ πικροθυμᾶμαι,
Κι’ οὔτε κλαίω – μόνο βαρυοκοιμᾶμαι.

Ἀρήοι, τριγύρω μου, οἱ Προσκυνητάδες

Οἱ Προσκυνητάδες κ’ οἱ Διαβάτες –
Μέσ’ τῆς κολῶνες, κι’ ἀπὸ τοὺς στυλοβάτες
Πᾶνε κ’ ἔρχονται ἀπὸ χρόνια κι’ ἀπὸ χρόνια
Μὲ τὰ καλοκαίρια καὶ μὲ τἄσπρα χιόνια,
Ἀνάμεσ’ ἀπ’ τοὺς στυλοβάτες
Οἱ Διαβάτες.
Καὶ περπατᾶνε, τριγύρω περπατᾶνε
Κι’ οὔτε κλαῖνε – μοναχὰ ποῦ Μὲ κυττᾶνε…


Parthenon ~ Dithyramb
Translated by Ilias Kolokouris

[Written one evening on the steps of the Parthenon].

The Battlefront is me.-
And My evil Enemies barbarism,

My enemies’ mania and grudge, –
And all the evil that they wanted
That’s Me – the evil that –
Ruins before Me, and smithereens, and ashes. Me
For I am the Battlefront…
I’m looking all around heavily.
And everywhere I send My glance.

And I send it to the sweetest blurry seas
where the bitter sunset settles down, –
And to immaterial mountaintops I send my glance,
And for a cloak the golden stars I take.
For I am the Battlefront, I am, I am …

A Titan Flower Me.
And from the depths of the ages I shall rise,
-I am the Stone, the Thought, and the Marble – the Lily.
And I shall not wither nor fade, nor shall I budge.
The Marble, the Lily, the Stone, the Thought.
And I remember, and I remember, and I bitterly bitter,
And I weep not – only sleep heavily.

All around me, Pilgrims deserted, Passers-by
The Pilgrims and the Passers-by,
Amongst the Columns and the Stylobate Pillars,
They come and go
With the summers and the white snow,
Amongst the Pillars the Pilgrims,
And the walk, all around they walk by,
And they don’t even cry,
They just pass by
And look at I.