Seferis Quotes

Don't ask me who's influenced me. A lion is made up of all the lambs he's digested, and I've been reading all my life.

And a soul if it is to know itself must look into its own soul: the stranger and enemy, we've seen him in the mirror.

Είτε βραδιάζει είτε φέγγει μένει λευκό το γιασεμί.

To say what you want to say, you must create another language and nourish it for years with what you have loved, with what you have lost, with what you will never find again.

I watched you with all the light and darkness I have" Giorgos Seferis

Σε κοίταζα μ'όλο το φως και το σκοτάδι που έχω" Γ.Σεφέρης

Every man of action has a strong dose of egoism, pride, hardness, and cunning. But all those things will be regarded as high qualities if he can make them the means to achieve great ends.

In our gradually shrinking world, everyone is in need of all the others. We must look for man wherever we can find him. When on his way to Thebes Oedipus encountered the Sphinx, his answer to its riddle was: «Man». That simple word destroyed the monster. We have many monsters to destroy. Let us think of the answer of Oedipus.

My old friend, what are you looking for? After years abroad you’ve come back with images you’ve nourished under foreign skies far from you own country.’ ‘I’m looking for my old garden; the trees come to my waist and the hills resemble terraces yet as a child I used to play on the grass under great shadows and I would run for hours breathless over the slopes.’ ‘My old friend, rest, you’ll get used to it little by little; together we will climb the paths you once knew, we will sit together under the plane trees’ dome. They’ll come back to you little by little, your garden and your slopes.’ ‘I’m looking for my old house, the tall windows darkened by ivy; I’m looking for the ancient column known to sailors. How can I get into this coop? The roof comes to my shoulders and however far I look I see men on their knees as though saying their prayers.’ ‘My old friend, don’t you hear me? You’ll get used to it little by little. Your house is the one you see and soon friends and relatives will come knocking at the door to welcome you back tenderly.’ ‘Why is your voice so distant? Raise your head a little so that I understand you. As you speak you grow gradually smaller as though you’re sinking into the ground.’ ‘My old friend, stop a moment and think: you’ll get used to it little by little. Your nostalgia has created a non-existent country, with laws alien to earth and man.’ ‘Now I can’t hear a sound. My last friend has sunk. Strange how from time to time they level everything down. Here a thousand scythe-bearing chariots go past and mow everything down

Old friend, what are you looking for? After those many years abroad you come With images you tended Under Foreign Skies Far away from your own land.

I mean, in any case, that when you really feel something, you face the difficulty of expressing it. And that, after all, forms your style.

souls shriveled by public sins, each holding office like a bird in its cage

In every corner a gramophone shop in every shop a hundred gramophones in every gramophone a hundred records in every record an alive person playing with a dead one. Take the steel needle and separate them if you can.

Our friends have left us Perhaps we never saw them, perhaps we encountered them when sleep still brought us very close to the breathing wave perhaps we search for them because we search for the other life, beyond the statues.

Horror cannot be spoken because it is alive; because it is silent and is going forward; it drips into the day and it drips into sleep. Sorrow-recalling pain.

I don’t want to be anything today; tomorrow, we’ll see.

Ich schau dich mit all dem Licht und Dunkel an, das ich habe " G.Seferis

My vantage point must have been somewhere between our little house and the steamer jetty. The sea was exceptionally calm. Lit up by a sun that you could have taken down and put in your knapsack. Everything: Mooring rings on the harbor wall, piles of timber, the arches of the houses, caiques, windows – all of them were faithful, in the way we describe a dog being faithful.

Λυπούμαι γιατί άφησα να περάσει ένα πλατύ ποτάμι μέσα από τα δάχτυλά μου χωρίς να πιω ούτε μια στάλα. Τώρα βυθίζομαι στην πέτρα. Ένα μικρό πεύκο στο κόκκινο χώμα, δεν έχω άλλη συντροφιά. Ό,τι αγάπησα χάθηκε μαζί με τα σπίτια που ήταν καινούργια το περασμένο καλοκαίρι και γκρέμισαν με τον αγέρα του φθινοπώρου. ("Μυθιστόρημα", 1935, ΙΗ')

Δεν έχει μάτια Τα φίδια που κρατούσε Της τρων τα χέρια.

The first thing God made is love then comes blood and the thirst for blood

Τούτη η κολόνα έχει μια τρύπα, βλέπεις την Περσεφόνη;

The broken pomegranate is full of stars.

Every morning the warm water reminds me that I have nothing else alive near me.

Now that you will leave, now that the day of payment dawns, now that no one knows who he will kill and how he will die take with you the boy who saw the light under the leaves of that plane tree and teach him how to study the trees.

Raven In memoriam E. A. P. Χρόνια σαν τα φτερά. Τί θυμάται τ’ ακίνητο κοράκι; τί θυμούνται οι πεθαμένοι κοντά στις ρίζες των δέντρων; Είχαν ένα χρώμα τα χέρια σου σαν το μήλο που πέφτει. Κι αυτή η φωνή που ξαναγυρίζει πάντα, χαμηλή. 5 Εκείνοι που ταξιδεύουν κοιτάζουν το πανί και τ’ αστέρια ακούνε τον αγέρα ακούνε πέρα απ’ τον αγέρα την άλλη θάλασσα σαν ένα κοχύλι κλειστό κοντά τους, δεν ακούνε τίποτε άλλο, δεν ψάχνουν μέσα στους ίσκιους των κυπαρισσιών ένα χαμένο πρόσωπο, ένα νόμισμα, δε γυρεύουν 10 κοιτάζοντας ένα κοράκι σ’ ένα ξερό κλωνί, τί θυμάται. Μένει ακίνητο πάνω στις ώρες μου λίγο πιο ψηλά σαν την ψυχή ενός αγάλματος που δεν έχει μάτια είναι ένα πλήθος μαζεμένο μέσα σ’ αυτό το πουλί χίλιοι άνθρωποι ξεχασμένοι σβησμένες ρυτίδες 15 ερειπωμένες αγκαλιές και γέλια που δεν τέλειωσαν έργα σταματημένα σιωπηλοί σταθμοί ένας ύπνος βαρύς από χρυσά ψιχαλίσματα. Μένει ακίνητο. Κοιτάζει τις ώρες μου. Τί θυμάται; Είναι πολλές πληγές μέσα στους αόρατους ανθρώπους, μέσα του 20 πάθη μετέωρα περιμένοντας τη δεύτερη παρουσία επιθυμίες ταπεινές που κόλλησαν πάνω στο χώμα σκοτωμένα παιδιά και γυναίκες που κουράστηκαν την αυγή. Τάχα να βαραίνει πάνω στο ξερό κλωνί τάχα να βαραίνει πάνω στις ρίζες του κίτρινου δέντρου πάνω στους ώμους 25 των άλλων ανθρώπων, τις παράξενες φυσιογνωμίες που δεν τολμούν να γγίξουν μια στάλα νερό βυθισμένοι στο χώμα τάχα να βαραίνει πουθενά; Είχαν ένα βάρος τα χέρια σου όπως μέσα στο νερό μέσα στις θαλασσινές σπηλιές, ένα βάρος αλαφρύ χωρίς συλλογή 30 με την κίνηση κάποτε που διώχνουμε την άσκημη σκέψη στρώνοντας το πέλαγο ώς πέρα στον ορίζοντα στα νησιά. Είναι βαρύς ο κάμπος ύστερ’ απ’ τη βροχή· τί θυμάται η μαύρη στεκάμενη φλόγα πάνω στον γκρίζο ουρανό σφηνωμένη ανάμεσα στον άνθρωπο και στην ανάμνηση του ανθρώπου 35 ανάμεσα στην πληγή και το χέρι που πλήγωσε μαύρη λόγχη, σκοτείνιασε ο κάμπος πίνοντας τη βροχή, έπεσε ο αγέρας δε σώνει η δική μου πνοή, ποιός θα το μετακινήσει; ανάμεσα στη μνήμη, χάσμα — ένα ξαφνισμένο στήθος ανάμεσα στους ίσκιους που μάχουνται να ξαναγίνουν άντρας και γυναίκα 40 ανάμεσα στον ύπνο και στο θάνατο στεκάμενη ζωή. Είχαν μια κίνηση τα χέρια σου πάντα προς τον ύπνο του πελάγου χαϊδεύοντας τ’ όνειρο που ανέβαινε ήσυχα τη μαλαματένια αράχνη φέρνοντας μέσα στον ήλιο το πλήθος των αστερισμών τα κλεισμένα βλέφαρα τα κλεισμένα φτερά… Κορυτσά, χειμώνας 1937

Sen dümensiz, küreksiz bir kayık gibi başı boş yelken açmış gidiyorsun. Halbuki hayat yolu, bir yarış ihtirasıyla koşularak geçilmez. Menzilin neresi? Dur biraz, dinlen, pusulanı aç, bak, gittiğin yeri gör!.. Herkes bir teknenin sahibidir ve hayat seferi esnasında onu idareden mesuldür. Sana dur biraz, etrafını araştır ve teknene görülmesi, bilinmesi icap eden kıymetleri bul ve yerleştir diyorum.

¿Qué iban a hacer los desdichados, peleando y bebiendo día y noche sangre emponzoñada de serpientes? Siglos de veneno: generaciones de veneno”.

Une mendoj qe e tashmja eshte si nje dhurate krishtlindjesh te cilen e kemi ne preher, por ne vend qe te jemi mirenjohes e ta gezojme, rrijme ulur duke rikujtuar dhuratat e viteve te kaluara apo enderrojme per dhuratat qe duam te marrim vitet e ardhshme...

A lot of inside work in needed to make yourself a lucky person.

I prefer it by moonlight – George Seferis, tr. by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, from “In the Kyrenia District,” The Collected Poems 1924-1955 (‎ Princeton University Press; 1st edition, January 1, 1971)

Old friend, what are you looking for? After those many years abroad you come With images you tended Under foreign skies Far away from your own land. george seferis

ciekawe czy istnieją tutaj gdzie krzyżują się drogi deszczu wiatru i zniszczenia czy istnieją, ruch twarzy kształt uczucia tych, których tak dziwnie ubyło w naszym życiu tych, którzy pozostali cieniami fal i myślami z bezkresem morza a może nie, nie pozostaje już nic prócz ciężaru tęsknoty za ciężarem istnienia żywego tam, gdzie trwamy teraz nierealni zginając się jak gałęzie przeraźliwej wierzby ułożone w stos w czasie rozpaczy podczas gdy żółty prąd powoli kładzie wykorzenione sitowie w bagnie obraz kształtu, który skamieniał wraz z decyzją o wiecznej goryczy

I want nothing more than to speak simply, to be granted that grace. Because we’ve loaded even our song with so much music that it’s slowly sinking and we’ve decorated our art so much that its features have been eaten away by gold and it’s time to say our few words because tomorrow our soul sets sail.

Ali naš današnji svet daleko je od antičkog polisa ili od onih društava koja su slušala Šekspirove ili Rasinove pozorišne komade. To je rastočen, bolestan, neosetljiv svet pod narkozom, u kome se smislovi rasplinjavaju i prestaju da budu stvarni u zbrci utisaka, svet u kome čovek koji pokuša da sredi svoje utiske jedino u sebi nalazi čvrsto tle po kome može da se kreće. To osećanje (naime, osećanje ne-stvarnosti pojedinca) svojstveno je današnjim piscima. A reagovanje na takvo osećanje možemo videti kod tako različitih duhova kao što su T.S.Eliot, Andre Malro ili D.H.Lorens. Još je karakterističnija težnja ka monologu - unutrašnjem monologu. A između toga da čovek govori sasvim sam i da govori drugi jezik - rastojanje nije veliko. Ne bih želeo da ostavim utisak da je za mene poezija postala individualna stvar. Hoću samo da iznesem ovu opasku: umesto tvrdnji da je poezija dospela dotle da odbacuje komunikaciju, bilo bi kudikamo pravednije razmišljati o svetu u kome je komunikacija postala tako teška da baš ona podstiče tako tešku umetnost.

Kada je na putu u Tebu Edip naišao na Sfingu i kad mu je ona postavila svoju zagonetku, on joj je odgovorio: čovek. Ova jednostavna reč uništila je čudovište. Ima još mnogo čudovišta koja treba da uništimo. Treba da nam je uvek na umu ovaj Edipov odgovor. U ovom svetukoji svakim danom biva sve tešnji, svako od nas oseća potrebu za drugim ljudima. Mi moramo tražiti čoveka svuda gde se on nalazi.

Cemal Paşa Enver Paşaya duygu dolu bir telgraf gönderdi: "Eğer Kanal'a taarruz sırasında ölecek olursam bu seferi idare edebilecek sizden başka kimseyi düşünemiyorum. O zaman her halde İstanbul'dan Kudüs'e gelerek bu büyük işi sonuçlandırmanızı vasiyetim ve son emelim olarak arz ve rica ederim." Enver Paşa'dan şu yanıtı aldı: "Cenab-ı Hakkın sizi bu büyük görevde başarılı kılacağına eminim. İnşallah sizi İkinci Mısır Fatihi olarak selamlamaya gelirim

Our friends have left us Perhaps we never saw them, perhaps we encountered them when sleep still brought us very close to the breathing wave perhaps we search for them because we search for the other life, beyond the statues.

But what are they after, our souls, traveling on rotten ships from harbour to harbour?

Now that you will leave, now that the day of payment dawns, now that no one knows who he will kill and how he will die take with you the boy who saw the light under the leaves of that plane tree and teach him how to study the trees.

He stands upright by the shore, among piles of bones among heaps of yellow leaves empty cage waiting for the hour of fire.

They told us you'll conquer when you submit. We submitted and found ashes. They told us you'll conquer when you love. We loved and found ashes. They told us you'll conquer when you abandon your lives. We abandoned our life and found ashes.

In every corner a gramophone shop in every shop a hundred gramophones in every gramophone a hundred records In every record an alive person playing with a dead one. Take the steel needle and separate them if you can.

Every morning the warm water reminds me that I have nothing else alive near me.

Angels run naked in my veins;

Και μόλις άνοιξα τα μάτια μ’ έπιασε η απελπισία. Είχα το αίσθημα πως τα τελευταία χρόνια της ζωής μου ήμουν ένας υπνοβάτης που έχτιζε σπίτια μέσα στο όνειρο. Πρέπει να ξαναρχίσει κανείς πάλι από την αρχή, ολοένα από την αρχή. Η εικόνα του μέρμηγκα που κουβαλά, με άπειρες προσπάθειες, ένα δυσανάλογα μεγάλο φορτίο με κυνηγά από το Κάιρο.