I dedicate this poem to G.W. Bush and his golden wings...
I will try to translate. It was written by one of the greatest Greek poets of the 20th century, who died in 1928
Konstantinos G. Karyotakis
To the Statue of Liberty that illuminates the world
Freedom, Freedom you crown
it tears, it bites the skies. Your light
without scorching, it blinds your people.
The Americans, golden butterflies,
are calculating how many dollars
costs today your supersubstantial metal.
Freedom, freedom, you will be bought
by merchants and consortia and jews.
Many are the debts of our century
many the sins that the generations
will read when they will compare you
to the portrait of Dorian Gray.
Freedom, Freedom, you're being missed,
by remote forests, by destitute gardens,
by all the people that accept sorrow,
as the prize of the fight, and toil,
and go on with their life,
dead, lacking consecration.
-------------------------------------
Let's get yours!
I will try to translate. It was written by one of the greatest Greek poets of the 20th century, who died in 1928
Êùíóôáíôßíïò Ã. ÊáñõùôÜêçò
ÓÔÏ ÁÃÁËÌÁ ÔÇÓ ÅËÅÕÈÅÑÉÁÓ ÐÏÕ ÖÙÔÉÆÅÉ ÔÏÍ ÊÏÓÌÏ
ËåõôåñéÜ, ËåõôåñéÜ ó÷ßæåé, äáãêÜíåé
ôïõò ïõñáíïýò ôï óôÝììá óïõ. Ôï öùò óïõ,
÷ùñßò íá êáßåé, ôõöëþíåé ôï ëáü óïõ.
Ðåôáëïýäåò ÷ñõóÝò ïé ÁìåñéêÜíïé,
ëïãáñéÜæïõí, ðüóá äïëÜñéá êÜíåé
óÞìåñá ôï õðåñïýóéï ìÝôáëëü óïõ.
ËåõôåñéÜ, ËåõôåñéÜ, èá ó' áãïñÜóïõí
Ýìðïñïé êáé êïíóüñôéá êé åâñáßïé.
Åßíáé ðïëëÜ ôïõ áéþíïò ìáò ôá ÷ñÝç,
ðïëëÝò ïé áìáñôßåò, ðïõ èá äéáâÜóïõí
ïé ãåíåÝò, üôáí óå ðáñïìïéÜóïõí
ìå ôï ðñïôñáßôï ôïõ Dorian Gray.
ËåõôåñéÜ, ËåõôåñéÜ, óå íïóôáëãïýíå,
ìáêñéíÜ äÜóç, ñçìáãìÝíïé êÞðïé,
üóïé Üíèñùðïé ðñïóäÝ÷ïíôáé ôç ëýðç
óáí Ýðáèëï ôïõ áãþíïò, êáé ìï÷èïýíå,
êáé ôç æùÞ ôïõò åîáêïëïõèïýíå,
íåêñïß ðïõ ç êáèéÝñùóéò ôïõ ëåßðåé.
ÓÔÏ ÁÃÁËÌÁ ÔÇÓ ÅËÅÕÈÅÑÉÁÓ ÐÏÕ ÖÙÔÉÆÅÉ ÔÏÍ ÊÏÓÌÏ
ËåõôåñéÜ, ËåõôåñéÜ ó÷ßæåé, äáãêÜíåé
ôïõò ïõñáíïýò ôï óôÝììá óïõ. Ôï öùò óïõ,
÷ùñßò íá êáßåé, ôõöëþíåé ôï ëáü óïõ.
Ðåôáëïýäåò ÷ñõóÝò ïé ÁìåñéêÜíïé,
ëïãáñéÜæïõí, ðüóá äïëÜñéá êÜíåé
óÞìåñá ôï õðåñïýóéï ìÝôáëëü óïõ.
ËåõôåñéÜ, ËåõôåñéÜ, èá ó' áãïñÜóïõí
Ýìðïñïé êáé êïíóüñôéá êé åâñáßïé.
Åßíáé ðïëëÜ ôïõ áéþíïò ìáò ôá ÷ñÝç,
ðïëëÝò ïé áìáñôßåò, ðïõ èá äéáâÜóïõí
ïé ãåíåÝò, üôáí óå ðáñïìïéÜóïõí
ìå ôï ðñïôñáßôï ôïõ Dorian Gray.
ËåõôåñéÜ, ËåõôåñéÜ, óå íïóôáëãïýíå,
ìáêñéíÜ äÜóç, ñçìáãìÝíïé êÞðïé,
üóïé Üíèñùðïé ðñïóäÝ÷ïíôáé ôç ëýðç
óáí Ýðáèëï ôïõ áãþíïò, êáé ìï÷èïýíå,
êáé ôç æùÞ ôïõò åîáêïëïõèïýíå,
íåêñïß ðïõ ç êáèéÝñùóéò ôïõ ëåßðåé.
To the Statue of Liberty that illuminates the world
Freedom, Freedom you crown
it tears, it bites the skies. Your light
without scorching, it blinds your people.
The Americans, golden butterflies,
are calculating how many dollars
costs today your supersubstantial metal.
Freedom, freedom, you will be bought
by merchants and consortia and jews.
Many are the debts of our century
many the sins that the generations
will read when they will compare you
to the portrait of Dorian Gray.
Freedom, Freedom, you're being missed,
by remote forests, by destitute gardens,
by all the people that accept sorrow,
as the prize of the fight, and toil,
and go on with their life,
dead, lacking consecration.
-------------------------------------
Let's get yours!
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