Patras World Poetry Festival

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DECEMBER 10th - 13th  2020 

We would like to inform you that due to the implementation of a new lockdown in our country and the increase in the number of coronavirus cases, the organizing and scientific committee of the “Jean Moréas International Awards” and the Patras International Poetry Festival postpones the date of the event on December, 10-13 of 2020.

Digital Event

The Patras World Poetry Festival 2020 this year is entitled "National Poets" and plans to host 60 poets from 15 different countries around the world.

This year the festival  be held online and virtually, as far as COVID-19 impact affects significantly the implementation of this event.

In the four-day online event there will be 6 meetings lasting up to 3 hours, where the guest poets will be presented with readings in 2 languages, via live connection. The events will be attended by invited representatives of institutions and the jury, while the program will include speeches, presentations, tributes, music, etc.

In addition, the following activities will take place within the schedule of the Festival events:

  • online Award of the annual Greek Poetry Awards "Jean Moréas" (Saturday December 12th)
  • Art Exhibition "National Poets" with the participation of 20 Greek artists and 10 artists from different countries (live and digital tour)
  • Collectible trilingual edition of the poems of the participants, in the first language of each artist, in Greek and English

The 3rd Patras World Poetry Festival 2020 is organized by the Poetry Fountation “Grafeion Poiiseos”, the literary website Culture Book ( and the multicultural center Epikentro Plus History & Arts, while every year it is under the auspices of the Ministries of Culture and the Ministry of Tourism*. Supporters of the event are the Greek Library of London, the Cultural Center “Kostis Palamas”, the University of Western Macedonia, the Hellenic Open University and many other important institutions, as claimed under the Aegis of the President of the Hellenic Republic.

Awarding of Poetry Awards "Jean Moréas" for the year 2019

This annual event will be held digitally at one session of the PWPF Poetry Event 2020, with a presentation of the award-winning poets and recitations by them. This is the annual event during which the "Jean Moréas" Prizes are awarded for Greek poetic art and Greek poetic production in its entire range. They are recognizable nationwide and concern the poetry collections that were published throughout the previous calendar year from the year of the award. They refer both to young poets and newcomers and to those who are recognized with their poetic work along time.

The event is highly appreciated by the Greek literary and artistic circle of readers. In this year's event, in addition to the institutionalized awards, a very important foreign poet will be honored, who with his/her lifelong work honors the literature outside Greece.The Award Committee is composed of Greek University professors, as well as very important poets and poetry critics who will evaluate the work of the honorees.


On behalf of the organizing committee.

Kotopoulos H. Triantafyllos, President of the “Patras World Poetry Festival”

Skiathas D. Antonis, President of the Poetry Fountation “Grafeion Poiiseos”

Alaniadi Maria, Event Manager of the “Patras World Poetry Festival”

Marija Dejanović, Croatia


Marija Dejanović, Croatia

The Poems


Aubade is a buffalo
It unwraps its horns like a lotus
and water is dew, strewn with a faint
twist of the neck. This mist forms a thin
dense layer of fur that trails its spine
like a white deer trails traffic
when it is snowing
The white petals of a lotus

white blood cells, like pearl necklaces
which hang from roofs when it turns cold
Aubade rushes and races with its brief
darting haste
like the life of a white rabbit
and other white animals

Aubade: the only part of the scene that is brown

Everything else is white, wherever
the round rifle of the eye
beneath its thin frosty membrane
can perform the splits
Brown is only a tree with four roots
and two branches

I do not know why, but aubade

reminded me of the juggler
who waits for the traffic lights
to turn green. He then hurls
dusty tennis balls
ball by ball
like large, smooth walnuts
If one were to drop on the road
it would roll beneath a car waiting for its mark
and ruin the day
This way, make no mistake
There is no mud on its hands

My love is
a hunter that aims
for the empty space between two horns

(translated by Hana Samaržija)



Το εωθινό είναι βίσονας
Ξεδιπλώνει τα κέρατά του σαν λωτός
και το νερό είναι πάχνη, σκορπισμένη με ελαφριά
στροφή του λαιμού. Αυτή η αχλή συγκεντρώνεται σ' ένα λεπτό
πυκνό τρίχωμα που ακολουθεί τη ραχοκοκαλιά
σαν λευκό ελάφι που ακολουθεί την κίνηση στους δρόμους
όταν χιονίζει
Τα λευκά πέταλα του λωτού
λευκά αιμοσφαίρια, σαν μαργαριταρένια περιδέραια
που κρέμονται απ' τις στέγες όταν πέφτει παγωνιά
Η ανάσα του εωθινού ορμάει βολίδα με συνοπτική
σαν βέλος βιασύνη
σαν τη ζωή λευκού κούνελου
και άλλων λευκών ζώων

Εωθινό: είναι το μόνο σημείο της εικόνας που είναι καστανό
Όλα τα άλλα είναι παντού λευκά
όπου η μικρή καραμπίνα του ματιού
καλυμμένη με λεπτή μεμβράνη δρόσου
μπορεί να ακροβατήσει
Το καστανό είναι το μόνο δέντρο με τέσσερις ρίζες
και δυο κλαδιά

Δεν ξέρω γιατί, το εωθινό
μου θύμισε ζογκλέρ
που περιμένει στα φανάρια
το πράσινο για τους πεζούς. Μετά αρχίζει να εκσφενδονίζει
σκονισμένα μπαλάκια του τένις
ένα ένα
σαν μεγάλα, λεία καρύδια
Αν κάποιο έπεφτε στο βρεγμένο δρόμο
θα κυλούσε κάτω από αυτοκίνητο έτοιμο να ξεκινήσει
και θα κατέστρεφε τη μέρα
Αλλά μ' αυτόν τον τρόπο δεν γίνεται λάθος
Δε μένει λάσπη στα χέρια

Ο έρωτάς μου είναι
κυνηγός που σημαδεύει
το κενό ανάμεσα σε δυο κέρατα

(translated by Memi Katsoni)



Aubade je bizon
Rastvara svoje rogove kao lopoč
a voda je rosa ishlapjela uslijed pokreta vrata
prema gore. Ta izmaglica skuplja se u uskom
uzdignutom sloju krzna koje prati kralježnicu
kao bijeli jelen cestovni promet
kad pada snijeg
Bijele latice lotosa

bijela krvna zrnca kao niske od bisera
koje vise sa krovova kad je hladno
Aubade-dah zaleti se i pojuri svojim kratkim
strelovitim letom
moguće kao život bijelog zeca
i ostalih bijelih životinja

Aubade: jedino je on u cijelom prizoru smeđ

Sve je ostalo bijelo, svugdje
gdje god malena puška oka
presvučenog tankom mrazovom opnom
može načiniti trapez
Jedino je smeđe stablo s četiri korijena
i sa dvije grane

Ne znam zašto, aubade

me podsjetio na žonglera
koji čeka da se na pješačkom prijelazu
pojavi zeleno svjetlo. Zatim počne bacati u zrak
prašnjave teniske lopte
kuglu po kuglu
nalik na velike, pretjerano pravilne orahe
Kad bi bar jedna ispala na mokru cestu
otkotrljala bi se pod haube auta
koji čekaju znak da krenu
i dan bi bio osiromašen

Ovako, nema greške
Nema blata na rukama

Moja je ljubav
lovac koji nišani
u prazan prostor između rogova

* * * 

Tracing Straight Lines 

Yellow inertia of arrival
of fruits, apples, pears
sprouted from a stone that was dug in like a heel
swam out of water

All fruit is yellow
and appears only in hints
thickness of noon approaches us like a tame train
regularly, with delicate deviations
and warns us to be careful
with mild smiles
clean surfaces, and heated steel hearts
ready to smother snakes with shovels
and to seek them under every stone

She has fireproof hands, and
hides them in the oven like a snake hides its legs
stretches her neck, scalp and chin tracing straight lines
and searches the sky for scars
coming out the backs of planes

She can't burn herself on me
she can't learn my name
Our irises are fixed within eyelashes
that calibrate like flower buds
buds of May
escorting heads and tails

I'm so happy to have you
you stole a part of the car so nobody could drive it
and now you are hitchhiking, wondering
whether it was worth it

Your grassy tongue hides lies
sweet, summery slights that enable you to love me

When you melt my name in your mouth
I'd swear it's not my name
When your mouth kisses my cheek
I'd swear it's not my cheek

(translated by Hana Samaržija)


Χαράζοντας ευθείες γραμμές 

Η κίτρινη αδράνεια της άφιξης
φρούτων, μήλων κι αχλαδιών
που βλασταίνουν από πέτρα μπηγμένη βαθιά σαν τακούνι
βγήκε κολυμπώντας απ' το νερό

Όλα τα φρούτα είναι κίτρινα
κι εμφανίζονται μόνο σαν νύξεις
η πυκνότητα του μεσημεριού μας πλησιάζει σαν τιθασευμένο τρένο
συστηματικά, με λεπτές αποκλίσεις

και μας συμβουλεύει να είμαστε προσεκτικοί
με ελαφρά χαμόγελα
καθαρές επιφάνειες και θερμαινόμενες ατσάλινες καρδιές
έτοιμοι να λιώσουμε φίδια με φτυάρια
και να τα ξετρυπώσουμε κάτω από κάθε πέτρα

Εκείνη έχει χέρια πυρίμαχα και
τα κρύβει στο φούρνο όπως το φίδι κρύβει τα πόδια του
τεντώνει το λαιμό της, κρανίο και πιγούνι μια ευθεία
και εξετάζει τον ουρανό για ουλές
από τις ράχες των αεροπλάνων

Δεν μπορεί να χαράξει πάνω μου τα πύρινα σημάδια της
δεν μπορεί να μάθει το όνομά μου
Οι ίριδες μας ορίζονται από βλεφαρίδες
που βαθμονομούν σαν μπουμπούκια
μπουμπούκια του Μαΐου
όταν συνοδεύουν κορόνα και γράμματα

Είμαι τόσο ευτυχισμένη που σ' έχω
έκλεψες ένα κομμάτι από το αυτοκίνητο
κι έτσι κανείς δεν μπορεί να το οδηγήσει
και τώρα κάνεις οτοστόπ κι αναρωτιέσαι
αν άξιζε τον κόπο

Η γρασιδένια γλώσσα σου κρύβει ψέμματα
γλυκές καλοκαιρινές προσβολές που σε βοηθούν να μ' αγαπήσεις

Όταν λιώνεις το όνομά μου στο στόμα σου
θα 'παιρνα όρκο πως δεν είναι το όνομά μου
Όταν το στόμα σου φιλάει το μάγουλό μου
θα 'παιρνα όρκο πως δεν είναι το μάγουλό μου

(Translated by Memi Katsoni)


Pravilne linije

Žuta tromost dolaska
plodova drveća, jabuka, krušaka
izniknula je iz kamena ukopanog kao peta
isplivala iz vode

Svo je voće žuto
i pojavljuje se samo u naznakama
debljina podneva prilazi nam kao pitomi vlak
redovito, s blagim odstupanjima
i upozorava nas da moramo biti oprezni
blago nasmiješeni
čiste površine i metalnog, zagrijanog srca
spremni da motikom zatučemo bjelouške
i u pretrazi prevrnemo svaki kamen

Ona ima vatrostalne ruke
skriva ih u pećnici kao zmija noge
isteže vrat, tjeme i bradu slijedeći pravilne linije
prati na nebu male ožiljke
ispuštene iz stražnjice aviona

Ne može se na mene opeći
ne može mi saznati ime
Zjenice su nam fiksirane, uokvirene trepavicama
koje kalibriraju kao pupoljci
pupoljci svibanjski
pogledom ispraćaju noge i glave

Tako sam sretna što te imam
ukrala si dio auta samo da ga ne može nitko voziti
i sad autostopiraš, misleći
što li mi je sve to trebalo

Travnati ti jezik skriva laži
slatke, ljetne preinake kako bi me više voljela

Kad u ustima topiš moje ime
zaklela bih se da je to neko drugo ime
Kad mi ustima ljubiš obraz
zaklela bih se
da to nije moj obraz

The Poet

Marija Dejanović (1992) is a poet and a playwright. She studied Comparative literature and Pedagogy (University of Zagreb). She lives between Zagreb, Croatia, and Larissa, Greece. She has published three poetry books: 2018 - Etika kruha i konja (Goran award for young poets; Kvirin award for young poets);
2019 – Središnji god (Zdravko Pucak award for young poets); 2021 – Dobrota razdvaja dan i noć (shortlisted for the biggest Croatian award for poetry, Tin Ujević), and a theatre play Ne moramo više govoriti, svi su otišli (Marin Drž award for the year 2020 by the Croatian Ministry of Culture). Single poems by the author were awarded the first place Milo Bošković award (2021) and the second place DiBiase Poetry Contest award (2021). A trilingual selection of her latest poetry Ορατο Οστο was published in Greece (2020, Κύκλος Ποιητών). Translated poems by the author were published in around 15 world languages. She is a member of the Croatian Writers' Society, Croatian PEN Centre, and international poets' and festivals' platform Versopolis. She's one of the editors of Tema magazine and assistant director of Πανθεσσαλικό Φεστιβάλ Ποίησης.

Ελιάνα Χουρμουζιάδου
Paura Rodríguez Leytón, Bolivia


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