Stylianos Stylianou, CYPRUS

The Poems

Our life

How long did we live, where, with whom?
What do you know about all these, what do you remember?
And if you have changed, how much have you changed?
Will you be able to make the same decisions again?
And what is it, that gives value to everything?

Is it all stolen?
Did we borrow them from elsewhere?
And, why everything changes
without even asking us?

What should I steal from the future?
What should I give back to the past and how?
Or is it all the same?

After all, I always stay in the present
It was always the hardest
to end up somewhere
because I used to believe that I could
and should do it someday
And the present, nothing but ending ever existed

I keep asking ...
Is it you the one who has changed?
But how do I understand this?
Because if so
a different person is the one who walked the first road
and every road now
is not the next
rather than the first again
that someone else is walking it now

How much did you keep and how much do you know about
it now?
A coolness, a shiver
a dim light
And the relief along with the agony that always follows
as if forgotten for a while
before you remember
that you are nearing the end again
and a new beginning awaits you

And always ask yourself:
Do I had experienced all these again?

Always unknown next time the road where will take you
it is never the same although many seem to look alike
maybe they remind you of something
Even you do not know if you are yourself

And I...
I change with you too
There is nothing else I can do
rather than to live a little longer
and maybe that's how I could find a way
to die a little later

Keep trying
to see further
to find you
Knowing that there is no further away from you
Because I love you

Πόσα κράτησες και πόσα γνωρίζεις από αυτόν τώρα
       πια;
Μια δροσιά, ένα ρίγος,
ένα θαμπό φως
Κι η ανακούφιση μαζί με την αγωνία που πάντα
      ακολουθεί
σαν ξεχαστείς για λίγο
πριν θυμηθείς
ότι πάλι κοντά σ' ένα τέλος πλησιάζεις
και η αρχή σε περιμένει πιο κάτω

Άγνωστο την επόμενη φορά ο δρόμος που θα σε
        βγάλει
Ποτέ δεν είναι ο ίδιος αν και πολλά φαίνεται σαν να
       μοιάζουν
ίσως και κάτι να σου θυμίζουν
Ακόμα και εσύ δεν ξέρεις αν είσαι ο ίδιος

Κι εγώ ...
Αλλάζω κι εγώ μαζί σου
Δεν μπορώ τίποτα άλλο να κάνω
παρά να ζήσω λίγο παραπάνω
και ίσως έτσι καταφέρω
να πεθάνω λίγο αργότερα

Συνέχεια προσπαθώντας
να δω πιο μακριά
Ίσα με σένα
Ξέροντας ότι πιο μακριά από σένα δεν υπάρχει
Επειδή σ' αγαπώ

*

Presence

You were wonderful as a presence
you are the same as a memory
When I think of you, still I feel confused about these two
Rare asset of people
usually a privilege of the gods
Definitely something of yours

And I may not want to see you again
I cannot lose anything again
Something of yours
I'm not talking about the memory
i still call it...
presence

Παρουσία

Ήσουν υπέροχη ως παρουσία
Το ίδιο είσαι και ως ανάμνηση
Όταν σε σκέφτομαι σαν να τα συγχέω ακόμα τα δύο
Σπάνιο προτέρημα των ανθρώπων
Συνήθως προνόμιο των Θεών
Σίγουρα κάτι δικό σου

Και ίσως να μη θέλω να σε ξαναδώ
Δεν μπορώ ξανά να χάσω κάτι
Κάτι από σένα
Δε μιλώ για την ανάμνηση
Εγώ την ονομάζω ακόμα...
Παρουσία

The Poet