Monday, March 28, 2011
Give me a break...
I hate stagnation in any form.
My blog is getting boring..
I hope to shoot a few interesting NEW photographs soon..
Sunday, March 20, 2011
The sky watcher..
Sometimes when I cannot sleep I photograph the sky and the moon.
This happened last night.
It is a little bit crazy, that someone in the middle of the night photographs
the sky.
It calms my thinking about what is going on in the world.
The world around me was still sleeping.
But the birds were singing. What do they sing so early in the morning?
Μερικές φορές, όταν δεν μπορώ να κοιμηθώ φωτογραφίζω τον ουρανό και
το φεγγάρι..
Αυτό συνέβη χθες τη νύχτα.
Είναι κάπως τρελό, όταν κάποιος τη νύχτα φωτογραφίζει τον ουρανό.
Όμως αυτό καλμάρει της σκέψεις μου σχετικά με το τη συμβαίνει στον κόσμο
γύρω μας..
Η γειτονιά ακόμα κοιμόταν.
Όμως τα πουλιά κελαηδούσαν.
Νωρίς άρχισαν το τραγούδι τους…
Clouds
Aristophanes (450 - 385 B.C.)
Rise up and come, immortal Clouds.
In a sparkle of raindrops, rise
From the swollen sea; rise up
To the peaks of the high hills
Shaggy with trees; look down
On the distant view,
Meadows and water-gardens,
Rippling streams, the booming sea.
The sun's unblinking eye
Sparkles with light: shake free
A mantle of rain over all the earth.
Immortal Clouds, rise up and come.
Clouds
Aristophanes (450 - 385 B.C.)
Rise up and come, immortal Clouds.
In a sparkle of raindrops, rise
From the swollen sea; rise up
To the peaks of the high hills
Shaggy with trees; look down
On the distant view,
Meadows and water-gardens,
Rippling streams, the booming sea.
The sun's unblinking eye
Sparkles with light: shake free
A mantle of rain over all the earth.
Immortal Clouds, rise up and come.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
flowers of the field..
Ανοιξη θρύψαλο μενεξεδί
Ανοιξη χνούδι περιστέρας
Ανοιξη σκόνη μυριόχρωμη
Στ'άνοιχτά χαρτιά καί στά βιβλία
Κιόλας φυσούσε χλιαρό αεράκι
Μέ τσιγγάνες πού αρπαζε
Σάν
Χαρταετούς
Ψηλά
Καί πουλιά πού δοκίμαζαν τό νέο τιμόνι τους
Ανοιξη πίκρισμα τού σκίνου
Ανοιξη΄αζωτο τής αμασχάλης
Ανοιξη σουσάμι αόρατο
Από σύρμα πού αξαφνα εσυρνε φωτιά
Στή γωνιά τού δρόμου μέ τίς Καρυατίδες
Στρίβοντας
Ενα τράμ
Εστρίγκλιζε
Στ'αδεια οίκόπεδα η μασιά τού΄ηλιου εσκάλιζε
Τήν τσουκνίδα καί τό σαλιγκαρόχορτο...
Spring violet fragment
Spring down of a dove
Spring multicolored dust
On the open books and papers
A warm little breeze was blowing
With gypsies it caught up
Like
Kites
In the air
And birds trying out their new rudders
Spring bitter lentisk
Spring vapor of the armpits
Spring invisible sesame
Along a wire that flashed with fire
On a street corner with Caryatids
A tram
Screeched by
The sun in the empty terrain scraped with tongs
The nettles and the snail-marked grass...
Odysseus Elytis 2.11.1911 - 18.3.1996
(Nobel Prize in Literature 1979)
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The Greek God Apollo.
In front of the Athens Academy building the statue of Apollo the lyra player.
Apollo is the Greek God of sun, fertility, prophecy, light, healing, music and poetry.
Poetry has its roots in the Greek past, it is also haunted by the penumbrae of the past.
George Seferis expresses the tremendous weight of this accumulated "burden" of
tradition in the following lines:
"I woke with this marble head in my hands.
It exhausts my elbows and I don't know where to put it down...."
It is the past that the poet tries to forget, but it is always present; a nostalgia for the " lost
glory", the "vanished world", that can never be completely exorcised.
The lure of Hellas has been celebrated not only by the Greeks, but also by a category of
philhellenes.
Writers and travelers such as Lord Byron, Shelley and Keats came in search of the
"haunted holy ground" and "the glory that was Greece".
And even if the words of Goethe: "Every civilized man ought in some way to be Greek..."
may sound somewhat remote today, the miracle and the magic remain very much alive.
Return
Yannis Ritsos (1909 - 1991)
The statues left first. A little later
the trees, people, animals. The land
became entirely desert. The wind blew.
Newspapers and thorns circled in the streets.
At dusk the lights went on by themselves.
A man came back alone, looked around him,
took out his key, stuck it in the ground
as though entrusting it to an underground hand
or as though planting a tree. Then he climbed
the marble stairs and gazed down at the city.
Cautiously, one by one, the statues returned.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Οι γλάροι.. seagulls
Πέρυσι, σε αναζήτηση ενός νησιού που είναι τέλειο για εμάς και το σκάφος,
φτάσαμε στο νησί της Θάσου.
Στο δρόμο προς εκεί είχα την ευκαιρία να φωτογραφίσω αυτούς τους
Γλάρους (αυτοί σε αναζήτηση φαγητού)…
Και όχι ότι μας βρίσκανε ωραίους…
Im vergangenen Jahr auf der Suche nach einer Insel, die perfekt für uns mit
unserem Boot gewesen wäre, kamen wir zu der Insel Thassos, Nordgriechenland.
Auf unserer Fahrt dorthin hatte ich die Gelegenheit, diese Möven zu fotografieren,
die unserem Schiff auf Suche nach Futter folgten.
Last year in search of an island that is perfect for us with our boat, we came to the
island of Thassos, in Northern Greece.
On the way there, I had the opportunity to photograph these seagulls.
They followed us looking for some food.
Ο ΓΛΑΡΟΣ
Στό κύμα πάει να κοιμηθεί
δεν εχει τι να φοβηθεί
Μήνας μπαίνει μήνας βγαίνει
γλάρος είναι και πηγαίνει
Από πόλεμο δεν ξέρει
ούτε τι θα πεί μαχαίρι
Ο Θεός του ‘δωκε φύκια
και χρωματιστά χαλίκια
Αχ΄αλί κί αλιμονό μας
μές στον κόσμο το δικό μας
Δε μυρίζουνε τά φύκια
δε γυαλίζουν τά χαλίκια
Χίλιοι δυό παραφυλάνε
σε κοιτάν και δε μιλάνε
Είσαι σήμερα μονάρχης
κι ωσαμ’ αύριο δεν υπάρχεις.
Ο. ΕΛΥΤΗΣ
Ο. ΕΛΥΤΗΣ
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