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Subject Papatsonis: Scheme

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ELPENOR EDITIONS IN PRINT

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Publication 326 By absent-minded on Friday, June 7, 2002 at 20:46   
Location: Greece   Registered: Friday, June 29, 2001  Posts: -166    Search for other posts by absent-minded Search   Quote
There is no brighter thing than Truth.
Do you search with love and madness to find her?
Is your research fruitful like the Night,
knowing for sure that the Sun will burst pompously?
your research like the Night, when no matter how many darknesses
may whip, comely something always sparkles, the plenty of
the stars, or, at least, that anxious through clouds
dull dawn of a light that leads.
Contrariwise, who doesn't care for Truth,
is his negligence's supposed serenity
like the eternal night of the wicked death, - fruitless,
without any thing to be feared or expected, without beginning,
without end, unconscious, like the bare concept
of death, without trophies of colors, without even the splendor
of a future Judgment with trumpets.


Translated by Elpenor.

Publication 361 By ayye^os on Friday, September 20, 2002 at 10:04   
Location: Germany   Registered: Tuesday, May 28, 2002  Posts: 6    Search for other posts by ayye^os Search   Quote
Imagined to be a half-goddess, sprung from the love between a human and a Greek deity, beautiful Lady Alicia is the personified protagonist of Truth in this version in German, which obeys to a hexametrical rhythm giving tribute to its original roots.


-Scheme-

Was bricht so machtvoll hervor wie die Sonne,
liebste Alicia ?
Gleichnishaft wirklich wie Liebe aus deinen
strahlenden Augen ?
Rasend begehre ich es wie ein Blinder
seine Erleuchtung !
Reift mir die Dunkelheit endlich zur Ernte
lichtvollen Weines ?
Fort mit der lastenden Schwere, dem Druck der
Lichtlosigkeiten !
Anmutig lacht auch das zögernde Morgen-
grauen des Tages,
zeigt gar das Blinken der zahlreichen Sterne
heimlich die Sonne !
Sie ist das einzige Bildnis für Wahrheit -
dem, den sie leitet.
Jemand, dem s i e völlig gleichgültig bliebe,
hätte der Frieden ?
Sorglosigkeit ist ein Zwitter, dem Schatten
fruchtlos entstiegen :
nichts zu verlangen, nur Ruhe zu haben,
angstlos zu dämmern,
ohne die Farben sich schenken zu lassen ?
Oh wie vergeblich !
Würde doch -so- mich der Tod schon umnachten,
ohne Alicia !
Selbst noch die letzte Gewißheit des Heiles
ginge verloren.
---

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ELPENOR EDITIONS IN PRINT
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