Κυριακή, 31 Ιανουαρίου 2016

ΜΙΑ ΑΚΟΜΑ ΠΑΡΟΥΣΙΑΣΗ ΤΩΝ ΠΟΙΗΜΑΤΩΝ ΜΟΥ ΦΕΒΡΟΥΑΡΙΟΥ 2016 ΣΤΟ ourpoetryarchive

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 2016

EFTICHIA KAPARDELI



http://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.in/2016/02/eftichia-kapardeli.html

Our Poetry Archive V-1 No.-11: FEBRUARY 2016 Is Now On-Line! This month we are presenting 100 poems of 36poets around the world. The JANUARY issue of Our Poetry Archive has got more than 4000 viewership. So it is clear Our Poetry Archive is becoming popular with every new issue. 

This month we are happy to introduce twelve new poets to our poetry journal. Hope our readers will appreciate their poetic skill and literary merit. With this Our Poetry Archive also wishes to convey its deep respect and gratitude to poet Brooke Dylan, as this particular edition largely belongs to her. We appreciate her initiative and involvement to make this issue fruitful.  We would also like to extend our thanks to poet Stacia Reynolds and again to poet Brooke Dylan for writing up the guest editorial for this number.

You can easily find the top 10 most viewed poems of the week in the site. The more the website is being shared the more viewership will be ensured! So we would like to request you all, please keep on sharing your own poems so that more readers around the world can have a glimpse of your poetic skill and flavor!

Our Poetry Archive wishes you all a great poetic year ahead and we would like to extend our utmost gratitude to you all for your constant support and excellent contributions to make OPA a running success!
Eftichia KapArdeli


ΚΟΚΚΙΝΑ ΣΠΑΡΤΑ

Πριν γεννηθώ
στην απέραντη   ύλη…..
απογυμνώθηκα
χωρίς αφή

Στο σκοτάδι
μεγάλωσα μέσα
στο πλήθοςστης
θυσίας την βοή

Ταξίδεψα αποσκελετωμένη
από την πείνα και  τα
βασανιστήρια
συμπαγείς τοίχοι
μαρμάρωσαν τα φτερά μου
σε θρύψαλα φρίκης

Σιωπηλά σώματαγύρω μου
παρασύρονταιγλιστρούν
αδόκιμα σε άνισες
ισορροπίεςστο κενό
μετουσιώνονται


Κόκκινα σπαρτά του Ήλιου
που ποτίστηκαν με
περίσσιο αίμα  οι φίλοι
και οι θαμμένες ρίζες….
κραυγές  πνιχτές
που ακούγονται κάθε νύχτα
τρυπούν τις  φλέβεςτον αέρα
μεταμορφώνονται
σε νερό σε φωτιά
δεν πεθαίνουν

RED CROPS

Before I was born in the vast material ... ..
isolated
without touch

In the dark
grew up
the crowd, listing in
sacrifice the roar
Travelled emaciated
from hunger and
torture
solid walls
to marble my wings
shivers in horror

Silently bodies around me
drift, slide
inappropriately to unequal
balances in limbo
denatured

Red crops of the Sun
which watered with
excess blood friends
and buried roots ....
cries muffled
heard every night
pierce the veins, air
metamorphose
Fire water
They do not die


ΓΛΥΚΟΣΤΑΛΑΧΤΟ

Τα χρόνια της νιότης
έζησα ολομόναχος
σε εκείνα τα τοπία που
γεμίζουν με μυστικό Ήλιο 
τα βλέφαρα
Ταιριασμένα με τα κρινάκια της
Παναγιάς
και τον άνεμο της λευτεριάς
Άγγελμαχάραγμα στα δροσερά
χείλη της χαράς
***
Κύκνοιμε τα φτερά τους
σκέπασαν τις άσπρες
π
ασχαλιές
στις λυγισμένες αλήθειες
γνώρισα τα όνειρα σε ένα μπουκέτο
φωτός
σε νεογέννητες φυλλωσιές

SWEET DISTILLATE

The years of youth
I lived all alone
in those landscapes
filled with secret Sun
eyelids
Matched with lilies
Virgin
and the wind of freedom
Message, mark the cool
lips joy
***
Swans with their wings
they covered the white
lilacs
the bent truths
I met dreams a bunch
light
in newborn foliage
life

Eftichia KapArdeli