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Seferis, Giorgos: Mythistorema 15. - Quid πλατανων opacissimus (Μυθιστόρημα ΙΕ´- Quid πλατανῶν opacissimus in English)

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Μυθιστόρημα ΙΕ´- Quid πλατανῶν opacissimus (Greek)

Ὁ ὕπνος σὲ τύλιξε, σὰν ἕνα δέντρο, μὲ πράσινα φύλλα,
ἀνάσαινες, σὰν ἕνα δέντρο, μέσα στὸ ἥσυχο φῶς,
μέσα στὴ διάφανη πηγὴ κοίταξα τὴ μορφή σου
κλεισμένα βλέφαρα καὶ τὰ ματόκλαδα χάραζαν τὸ νερό.
Τὰ δάχτυλά μου στὸ μαλακὸ χορτάρι, βρῆκαν τὰ δάχτυλά σου
κράτησα τὸ σφυγμό σου μιὰ στιγμὴ
κι ἔνιωσα ἀλλοῦ τὸν πόνο τῆς καρδιᾶς σου.

Κάτω ἀπὸ τὸ πλατάνι, κοντὰ στὸ νερό, μέσα στὶς δάφνες
ὁ ὕπνος σὲ μετακινοῦσε καὶ σὲ κομμάτιαζε
γύρω μου, κοντά μου, χωρὶς νὰ μπορῶ νὰ σ᾿ ἀγγίξω ὁλόκληρη,
ἑνωμένη μὲ τὴ σιωπή σου
βλέποντας τὸν ἴσκιο σου νὰ μεγαλώνει καὶ νὰ μικραίνει,
νὰ χάνεται στοὺς ἄλλους ἴσκιους, μέσα στὸν ἄλλο
κόσμο ποὺ σ᾿ ἄφηνε καὶ σὲ κρατοῦσε.

Τὴ ζωὴ ποὺ μᾶς ἔδωσαν νὰ ζήσουμε, τὴ ζήσαμε.
Λυπήσου ἐκείνους ποὺ περιμένουν μὲ τόση ὑπομονὴ
χαμένοι μέσα στὶς μαῦρες δάφνες κάτω ἀπὸ τὰ βαριὰ πλατάνια
κι ὅσους μονάχοι τους μιλοῦν σὲ στέρνες καὶ σὲ πηγάδια
καὶ πνίγουνται μέσα στοὺς κύκλους τῆς φωνῆς.
Λυπήσου τὸ σύντροφο ποὺ μοιράστηκε τὴ στέρησή μας καὶ τὸν ἱδρώτα
καὶ βύθισε μέσα στὸν ἥλιο σὰν κοράκι πέρα ἀπ᾿ τὰ μάρμαρα,
χωρὶς ἐλπίδα νὰ χαρεῖ τὴν ἀμοιβή μας.

Δῶσε μας, ἔξω ἀπὸ τὸν ὕπνο, τὴ γαλήνη.

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Source of the quotation

Mythistorema 15. - Quid πλατανων opacissimus (English)

Sleep wrapped you in green leaves like a tree
you breathed like a tree in the quiet light
in the limpid spring I looked at your face:
eyelids closed, eyelashes brushing the water.
In the soft grass my fingers found your fingers
I held your pulse a moment
and felt elsewhere your heart’s pain.

Under the plane tree, near the water, among laurel
sleep moved you and scattered you
around me, near me, without my being able to touch the whole of you -
one as you were with your silence;
seeing your shadow grow and diminish,
lose itself in the other shadows, in the other
world that let you go yet held you back.

The life that they gave us to live, we lived.
Pity those who wait with such patience
lost in the black laurel under the heavy plane trees
and those, alone, who speak to cisterns and wells
and drown in the voice’s circles.
Pity the companion who shared our privation and our sweat
and plunged into the sun like a crow beyond the ruins,
without hope of enjoying our reward.

Give us, outside sleep, serenity.

Uploaded byP. T.
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