A keresés eredménye

LIKE AN OLD REBETICO SONG

For a few penny's, I had to sell my carpet, my clothes
and even worst than those, I had to sell my family's old coffee kettle.
 
I am very ill boys, so, my good friend, the doc,
gave me a good advice
to travel far, far away, form this place.
 
And the time has come for me to say ''howdy'' to my best,
more than a brother, my friend, Antypas
and to leave him behind with a hole on my black icy heart,
just a hole on my black icy heart.
And the time has come for me to say ''howdy'' to my best,
more than a brother, my friend, Antypas.
Any brother among you, my fellow brothers,
who doesn't agree with me,
feel free to run towards me and give me the most honest
and the most brave of all of his kisses.
 
The very best boys, of all of us around here, they have got very tired
and they all have returned back to their homes.
The daylight is still late to come, but there are no friends anymore
who could be found for spending together with us the night.
 
Ha I am standing at the bus stop in night
ah, there goes away the golden summer
ah, there goes away the golden summer
and what is left is a bunch of tourists
who start packing their bags on their shoulders.
Hey ne e ne...
Ah na na na ...
 
My voice it' s, like when you re listening
to an old Rebetiko Greek song, fading away
and it's scattering in the lost air.
There would be no place that could be found in this land anywhere
for my voice to be continuing to shine
and soon enough it would be stopped shining at all.
 
And the time has come for me to say ''howdy'' to my best,
more than a brother to me, my friend, Antypas
and to leave him behind with a hole on my black icy heart,
just a hole on my black icy heart
 
And the time has come for me to say ''howdy'' to my best,
more than a brother, my friend, Antypas.
Any brother among you, my fellow brothers,
who doesn't agree with me
Hey ne e ne...
Ah na na na ...
feel free to run towards me and give me his most honest
and his most brave of all of his kisses.
 

At the EFEE protest

The square was full of the the meaning that the fires seem to have.
At the corners, in the streets, full of comrades, workers, students
And you shining in the middle of the crowd,
and you were, my light, a dark red flake in a fiesta
A fiesta i've never seen before in my humble life.
 
The square was empty and crazy as i was from the love bites, like a dog
with my protest slogans torn, i am poured into love for you
I'm looking for you in the lecture hall, in the hallways and in the streets,
asking for information and material
To light up the reasons for my longing,
 
The square is full and something from your face still survives
in the fight of the comrade, in the agony of this country for life,
in the children and the workers, the civilians, the soldiers,
in the signs and in the sound of the trigger
The protest is on fire and everything becomes apparent.
 

Let the dances keep ongoing

Versions: #1
Let the dances keep ongoing
and we will hang out in different places
in the countryside, oh boy,
until this gathering
will unfold like an autonomous village.
 
Up in stellar space
with receivers and antennas
the Greeks make networks
and history is made by the close friend's circle.
 
George starts
''We are and we are not
we are nothing oh boy''
and little John sings
''If nothing is written then something will come out.''
 
And in the night's glowing light
here comes Alkis our little boy,
to join old and new paths
with our future rock.
 
The sky is on fire
easy come easy go
sparkles and circuits
and the shining circle of close friends
the sky mirrors
on beaches.
 
And either with antiquity
or the Orthodoxy
the Greek communities
are constructing another galaxy.
 
Here comes Babis who is drunken
and Lydia who is ashamed
because everybody looks at her, oh boy.
And Achilles and Zoi
in front of the Polaroid camera
they are smiling.
 
Then Ellen the dancer
leans toward Tasos
and with their eyes closed they sing embracing each other:
Cheers to the Greek National Team!
 
Is there something to blame to the Parliament,
Is there something to blame to the Nation's Representatives,
wasted and faceless people, oh boy?
If the head is aching
it is because of the faceless love
that is has been found.
 
But my love has a name,
has a body and a religion
and grandfathers in autonomous countries
under the Turkish Occupation.
 
God save us
So we can always meet again
in wild parties, oh boy,
with circled dance
and be free
like rivers.
 
And in the night's glowing light
our bond is tightening more,
and it couples with old paths on fire
with our future rock.
 

The Messenger Angel

Versions: #1
The messenger angel came to us from far away
leaning on a crutch,
he didn't know how to speak, not to speak at all
and he used his tongue only to lick us.
 
The news he brought to us all lies
but sounded softly to our ears,
because each lie seems like a truth
and listening him our soul eased.
 
He made his bed back in the market place
and made jokes in the tavern.
He was a customer bringing a good mood in the barber shops and baths
and he used to look at the fishes in the pond.
 
And as the winter passed summer came
and then again the cold weather was back.
Until a night, well what an odd thing,
he suddenly started to shout maniacally.
 
My feet were burnt in this no man's land,
night after night after night.
The news i brought to you sounded softly to your ears,
but they are far away from the truth.
 
Immediately we understood, what he was trying to say to us
so we told him numbly to go away.
If he hadn't any good news to say to us
He would better not say any.
 

Secret landscape*

Like the complaint in the phrase: Here and now
Like the damaged pharmacy at two a.m.
Like the burnt football stadium, like your motor bike's fury
Between the shivers of the glass window I hear your soul
 
And just like in a secret landscape, opposite the monster of the deep*
like that some unknown grace keeps me at your length
 
Your hasty midgets sent me messages
from your country's frenzy that increases
3 a.m at dawn, like a street demonstration filled with people
black glass without a face and suddenly it cracks
 
And at the dead man's pulse, at the flashes of the ambulance
it mirrors something from the echo of God in the sea bottom of Lucifer
 
My rhythms have become manic but they don't contain the sound
of your solitude when you're crying and you're hitting the wall
At the half-lit dawn I erase miles of written mass
for you to find the page completely blank, [for you] to enter and rise
 
With a consumption by fire everywhere, in your Divine truth
like the photograph of a child that tells me 'Reader, help[!]'
 
Gate 7* and Door under the tank crawlers*
all walked through the tongues that strangle
And even then I listened to you like a little word uttered by a stranger
and not as a part of their discourse and their agenda*
 
So as for me to hug you with longing and feel you so deeply
As is secret this very landscape that I crave to convey
 

Zozo

One night at a village
Zozo arrives from the city
with a passing by truck
 
And from the first night
the young boys at the queue are holding five or six five-cent coins
tight in their hands*.
 
At the village they're still laughing at Zozo
Because one obscure evening
they caught her outside the village
they broke her teeth by kicking her
they took her clothes and money
at the village they're still laughing at Zozo
 
I advise you for your own good
don't make fun of Big Zozo
because you could get harmed
 
And whoever turns to see her
she's poor, she's dumb
and still she can destroy a child
 
Our friend, the priest's son, what a valiant man
and she stole his mind
 
Life near her is suffering
Squalor, wine and prison
and in the end he will go crazy
he'll kill himself, he'll become a pimp in the city!
 
well, whatever you may say, Zozo is worth it