Παρασκευή, 10 Ιουνίου 2011

Gothic poems

These are the three last English poems.
Gothic poems, deep underground poems, satanic poems – the reader may call these poems as he wishes.
As far as I am concerned, I do not believe in any gods or devils. These verses are only the result of a bet with a bad guy (he dared me...), who was, allegedly, interested in satanism. He had to concede that he was deeply impressed. After a few years I had almost forgotten these poems.
The specific content being what it is, I do not dislike the purely esthetic side of this work.
Three poems were published yesterday. Three the day before yesterday. Today come the final three.

Χθόνια ποιήματα στα αγγλικά

Σήμερα αναρτώ τα τελευταία ποιήματά μου στα αγγλικά. Μερικοί θα τα πουν σατανικά ή σατανιστικά και θα τα διαβάσουν με βδελυγμία. Δεν είναι όμως τίποτα περισσότερο από ποιήματα, γραμμένα σαν αποτέλεσμα στοιχήματος μ’ ένα παλιόπαιδο (μου είπε: σε προκαλώ...) που ενδιαφέρθηκε, τάχα, για το σατανισμό. Όταν τα διάβασε, παραδέχτηκε ότι είχε εντυπωσιαστεί πολύ. Μετά, τα ποιήματα έμειναν ξεχασμένα σ’ ένα φάκελο.
Το περιεχόμενο δεν αντικατοπτρίζει τις προσωπικές μου πεποιθήσεις γιατί δεν πιστεύω ούτε σε θεούς ούτε σε δαίμονες.
Δεν είμαι όμως δυσαρεστημένος με την καθαρά αισθητική πλευρά του θέματος.
Χτες αναρτήθηκαν τρία ποιήματα., όπως και προχτές.
Τα σημερινά ποιήματα, ξανά τρία τον αριθμό, περιγράφουν τα τότε αισθήματά μου για το πρόσωπο που στάθηκε αφορμή του όλου εγχειρήματος...




SPERM AND BLOOD

watching you in trances
is not enough.
watching you bleeding
is not enough.
watching you suffering
is not enough.
watching you crying
is not enough.
hearing you screaming
is not enough.
feeling your muscles tense with pain,
your abdomen so vulnerable under feverish fingers,
your genitals so strong, so heavy,
so pulsing hot in my hand,
is not enough, not enough.
lust has made me a stony bow,
in lust and pain I guide you.
no climax of horror can stop me now
from spilling, spilling my sperm
on your sperm and blood
our blood,
our blood so sweetly shed…




POSSESSION

lend me your shoulder
for a caressing kiss so soft,
lend me your back
for a kiss so tender
as if you were just born.
lend me your thighs
for kisses so hot, for kisses
so wild, so possessing,
that blood is now the red of my lips,
blood the taste on my tongue,
love my longing
for the blood of your soul.




YOUTH ETERNAL

one more clandestine poem
in a clandestine life,
is the toll you set
for one hour with you, each minute of it longer
than any minute you condescended before;
for one night with you, darker than night,
with stars no more,
darker than the night of the blind.

voices will whisper in fear,
a whisper lower than silence itself.
hands will touch hands,
chest to chest, mouth to mouth
our grasping souls will grow,
until our bodies tangle
in one hard embrace by human law forbidden
but
an exploding glow in darkness,
a jubilant song in silence,
and lust younger than youth eternal.


1 σχόλιο: