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 | I speak - 2454 Αναγνώσεις   | | | |   |  |
Στίχοι: Μανώλης Αναγνωστάκης
Μουσική: Μίκης Θεοδωράκης
Πρώτη εκτέλεση: Μαρία Φαραντούρη
Άλλες ερμηνείες:
Αντώνης Καλογιάννης
Πέτρος Πανδής
Μανώλης Μητσιάς
Μίκης Θεοδωράκης
Μιλώ για τα τελευταία σαλπίσματα των νικημένων στρατιωτών
Για τα τελευταία κουρέλια από τα γιορτινά μας φορέματα
Για τα παιδιά μας που πουλάν τσιγάρα στους διαβάτες
Μιλώ για τα λουλούδια που μαραθήκανε στους τάφους και τα σαπίζει η βροχή
Για τα σπίτια που χάσκουνε δίχως παράθυρα σαν κρανία ξεδοντιασμένα
Για τα κορίτσια που ζητιανεύουν δείχνοντας στα στήθια τις πληγές τους
Μιλώ για τις ξυπόλυτες μάνες που σέρνονται στα χαλάσματα
Για τις φλεγόμενες πόλεις τα σωριασμένα κουφάρια στους δρόμους
τους μαστροπούς ποιητές που σέρνονται τις νύχτες στα κατώφλια
Μιλώ για τις ατέλειωτες νύχτες όταν το φως λιγοστεύει τα ξημερώματα
Για τα φορτωμένα καμιόνια και τους βηματισμούς στις υγρές πλάκες
Για τα προαύλια των φυλακών και το δάκρυ των μελλοθανάτων
Μα πιο πολύ μιλώ για τους ψαράδες
Π’ αφήσανε τα δίχτυα τους και πήρανε τα βήματα Του
Κι όταν Αυτός κουράστηκε αυτοί δεν ξαποστάσαν
Κι όταν Αυτός τους πρόδωσε αυτοί δεν αρνηθήκαν
Κι όταν Αυτός δοξάστηκε αυτοί στρέψαν τα μάτια
Κι οι σύντροφοι τους φτύνανε και τους σταυρώναν
Κι αυτοί γαλήνιοι το δρόμο παίρνουνε π’ άκρη δεν έχει
Χωρίς το βλέμμα τους να σκοτεινιάσει ή να λυγίσει
Όρθιοι και μόνοι μες στη φοβερή ερημία του πλήθους.
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Lyrics: Manolis Anaynostakis
Music: Mikis Theodorakis
First version: Maria Faradouri
Other versions:
Adonis Kaloyiannis
Petros Pandis
Manolis Mitsias
Mikis Theodorakis
I speak of the trumpet blares and the final toots of the defeated infantry troops, infantry troops
I speak of the rags, shreds, and tatters, of all that has remained from our once Sunday best
And of our children, selling smokes to strangers passing by
I speak, of all the flowers, neglected on the graves, decaying, abandoned, rotting in the rain
I speak of the houses, gawping there, windowless, just like cavernous, toothless, void skulls,
And of the orphaned, begging young girls, with their wounds displayed like medals on their bosom
I speak, of all the shoeless poor old mothers, on hands and knees there through the carnage, through the wreck
of all those cities afire, riddled with carcasses, piles on piles
Of poets turned into pimps, seen crawling there at nightfall, at nightfall on the doorsteps
I speak, of all those long endless nights, when light diminishes at day break, at day break
I speak of the truckloads of people, and of the rhythmic footsteps on wet concrete slabs
I speak, I speak of prison yards, I speak of tears. The tears of those condemned, condemned to death, to death
But most of all I speak of all those trawlers
who dropped their nets and followed suit and walked the road ahead upon his footsteps
And when he paused to take a break they didn't take a breather
And when he broke their solemn trust their faith didn't quiver
And when they saw him glorified they simply turned away
And their comrades, they spat on them and crucified them
But they continued, serene, along the end-less path they'd chosen
Without, not even just a hint within their eyes, of yield or dimness of yield or dimness.
Alone, still standing, the gruesome solitude of the crowd, withstanding
| | | | This is a liberal translation for those who would like to sing the song in English. My favorite performance by far is that of Antonis Kalogianis.
I would also like to point out that (I believe) the original could not possibly include capitalization in the second verse as the poet is only metaphorically speaking of the disciples and Jesus (of course). In fact, he is referring to the resistance movement and their leaders - see Zachariades - (right after the Second World War) and their blind faith and ultimate betrayal.
As for the first verse, it is not only about the Second World War but also about what followed. December 1944 and civil war and (maybe) even after.
Now, there seems to be quite some debate as to what the poet means on the 9th line of the first verse with the words "μαστροπούς ποιητές" (pimps poets). I guess it is down to the reader to interpret it.
Finally, the seemingly nonsensical "το φως λιγοστεύει τα ξημερώματα" (the light diminishes at dawn) on the 10th line of the first verse, will make sense once you see it as a metaphor of the state of mind of one living during that period.
Constructive criticism is always welcome. |  LefterisGarofalakis, Ελευθέριος Γαροφαλάκης © 23-05-2016 @ 02:39 |
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