Old 07-18-2017, 12:22 PM   #1
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Kick Start Suite

Sometimes when I'm travelling I'm bored out of my skull, and usually I try to pass the time writing something. I donít write much verse since last summer, which is a bit unusual for me and worries me a little, so this is an effort to get back again to verse/lyric writing, although I donít envisage to find the time to set it all to music. I wrote the whole thing during the eight hours that took me to get from my home in Athens to my home in London, trying to modulate from a personal into a social theme, and as usual I lapse into different languages as the flow takes me, for which I give a rough translation after the main text of the item, together with some explanations at the end for different unknown words to the English reader, and two active links for other references mentioned in this suite.
If you read it all or any of it, I would be grateful for any comments, criticisms, suggestions, before I can carry on with the music.
Thank you.




I wrote those things the way I did,
spaced out rather than strait,
taking from wise men the lead,
but carrying my own weight.

Those things were poems, they were songs,
letters and SMSs
to women wearing naughty thongs,
and dying for caresses.

I loved those muses of my life,
as good as they were plenty,
but more than them I love my wife,
since I was four and twenty.


Now, I donít knowÖ letís have a look,
obviously! some are missingÖ
who merits cycle, who merits bookÖ
who merits still my kissing?

No one merits more than that,
to no one shall I give it,
unless invited in your flat,
to start a song and weave it.


Ποτέ δεν ένοιωσα Αθηναίος,
απ' τον καιρό που ήμουν νέος,
γιατί κοιτούσα στην Καστέλα,
και μού λεγε ο Περαίας "Έλα!"

Αποχαιρέτησα τη μάνα
τη βιολογική μου μόνο,
ούτε για σένα, ω Αθάνα,
ούτε για Φάληρα καυλώνω.

Δεν έχει πια τον Τραμπαρίφα,
στη Φρεατύδα να με πάρει,
το βαποράκι του Μπουρνόβα,
στις μέρες μας έχει ρετάρει.

Μα εγώ σαν μένω στο καρνάγιο
για λίγους μήνες, δεν μπορώ,
βγαίνω στρατί σε ήχο πλάγιο,
και ταξιδεύω τον καιρό.

Έτσι και σήμερα σαλπάρω,
και λέω "Que serra, serra",
αφού ειν' όλα μιά χαρά,
τότε ειν' όλα μιά χαρά

(style modulation - chorus)
Μα αυτό το "Que serra, serra",
έγινε μοιρολατρικό,
δεν είναι όλα μιά χαρά,
μη μου μιλάς στον ενικό.


I never felt as an Athenian,
since I was young,
because I was looking at Castella hill, (1)
and Piraeus was telling me, "Come!"

I said good buy
only to my biological mother,
I neither feel hot about you, oh goddess Athena,
nor for Falira. (2)

There's no more a Trabarifas, (3)
to take me to Freatys, (4)
the little Bournova boat, (5)
now a days itís out of action.

But when I remain in the ship yard
for a few months, I cannot stand it,
I come on the street in a plagal mode,
and I travel my time.

Likewise today I open sails,
saying "Que serra, serra", (6)
since everything is alright,
then everything is all right.

(style modulation - chorus)
But this "Que serra, serra",
became fatalist,
everything is not alright,
donít talk to me in impolite form.


No problem, as you wish my dear,
I can't remember which was which,
though with you one thing is clear,
you're still a lovely psychobitch.

Fuck! I didnít mean to call you strait,
with your adorable true name,
wellÖ that is thatÖ but it's not late,
I donít need you to play this game.

I can pretend our love was real,
until the cows come home to you,
then we can share a secret meal,
not the Last Supper, just this blue


I meant to start with you, Christina,
but gone is now your Belle …poque,
you have become a serpantina,
cut you in two, you get no shock!

So many forms, so many faces,
I wonder if you did exist,
the most implausible of cases,
given that I am still a beast.

Προσπάθησα αλλά δεν έγινα,
το "Σύννεφο με Παντελόνια",
έχω ένα φίλο εκεί στην Αίγινα,
είδε τον Μπραμς να κάνει ψώνεια.

Μόνο αυτός θα καταλάβαινε
το στίχο ετούτο που σκαρώνω,
ούτε σε κόμπο όμως θα 'δενε,
πως στο στενό σου ξημερώνω.

Έτσι δεν είναι, ρε αμόρφωτε,
λίγη υποστήριξη ζητάω,
ρε γέρο-πόρνε, αδιόρθωτε,
ακόμα νυχτοπερπατάω.


I meant to start with you, Christina,
but gone is now your Belle …poque,
you have become a serpantina, (15)
cut you in two, you get no shock!

So many forms, so many faces,
I wonder if you did exist,
the most implausible of cases,
given that I am still a beast.

I tried but I didn't become,
"the cloud in trousers"
I have a friend, over there in Aegina, (7)
he has seen Brahms shopping in the bazar.

Only he would understand
this verse I'm forging now,
though he would not take it as godspel,
that morning finds me in your alley still.

Isn't that so, you illiterate bastard?
I ask for a little support,
you old pervert, incorrigible,
I'm still a night walker.


Μα άλλα λόγια έχει η ποίηση,
κι' άλλα υπήρξαν μεταξύ μας,
απλά τους κάνω παραποίηση,
για την παγκόσμια έναρξή μας.


But poetry has other words,
different to those that went between us,
simply I distort them a little,
for our world premiere.

Since you like shows, let's have some theatre,
since you like dancing, let us dance,
the lecture in the amphitheatre:
that which is not, but was once.

And here I mean the fucking lot of you,
I can no more discriminate,
but Edeltraud's psychedelia
I can still manage to narrate.

Break through its wide and its narrow,
with Lemonia to be again,
for whom the cold had reached the marrow,
making me feel, I missed the train.

But did I really, was I traveling,
or was I steady like a rock?
was I the night still unravelling,
seeking the perfect Belle …poque?

The irresistible force,
hitting the immovable objectÖ
and all that shitÖ
I really donít know.

it's seven years, I have no news,
I never met her since, I do not know,
the crimson sunset, the night still woos,
and songs are coming, eternal flow.


The verses were about you, frau B,
but verses are not easy anymore,
I'm a musician, so I let it be,
music, the essence of our own love's shore.

The verses were about you all in all,
even before the day you were borne,
I let it all because I had it all,
and since, my sky for ever you adorn,

you are,
that far,
where I could never come,
the sum:
I will survive,
waiting you to arrive,
a chord on the guitar,
that far,
where I could never reach,
how kitsch!

Please, donít return,
I am alright,
let us not spoil,
what we have,
I cannot turn,
I'm blind to light,
love in a foil,
but still love.


I donít forget, Fata Morgana,
εσύ είχες όλο τον καιρό,
θαύμασα όλα σου τα πλάνα,
κι' ακόμα τώρα απορώ.

Αφού με ξέρεις και σε ξέρω,
δεν χρειαζόταν τσακωμοί,
I love you still, Jai t' aime, te quiero,
και σ' αγαπώ για μιά στιγμή.

Κάποτε στοίχειωσες την πλάση,
μα είχε 'ρθεί η Λεμονιά,
χάλασες τρείς βραδυές τη φάση,
κι' ύστερα ανοίξαμε πανιά.


I donít forget, Fata Morgana,
you had all the time needed,
I admired all your plans,
and still I'm wondering.

Since you know me and I know you,
there was no need for quarrels ,
I love you still, Jai t' aime, te quiero,
I love you at every moment.

Once you haunted the whole creation,
but Lemonia had already come,
you spoiled the sport for three nights,
and then we opened sails.

Those "Ghosts of Every Occupation",
fighting the love of a young girl,
they died all of constipation,
each one behind leaving its yell.

Now that Lemonia is missing
and has become like you a ghost,
has stopped my cursing and my whishing,
but still I feel a little lost.

Well, life is life, so I'm living,
and fact is fucked, so I'm content,
again for England I am leaving,
to celebrate the long week end.

The every week end that you'll haunt me,
and every one that you're not there,
you do not scare me, do not taunt me,
you can become my kitchen wear.

Pour fem-fatal, sauce ŗ choix, (12)
for Lemonia, an orange juice,
Si je tíaime, prends garde ŗ toi! (13)
the rest still hunt that wild goose.


And so I'm left, morning approaching,
airport becoming full of life,
she's sexy, so I keep on watching,
hey miss, you want to blow my fife?

Oh, that was crude, you naughty boy!
Yet, that is all that it should take,
"Bye-bye", she's gone, I'm out of joy,
soÖ what the hellÖ let's keep awake.

It's definitely the day's beginning,
buses and taxis move in force,
It ain't no loosing, ain't no winning,
just count my blessings, could be worse.

Itís music still that keeps me going,
love for my mother, love for you,
talking to you, that you are knowing,
you're still my pearl, crowning this blue.

In a while when I'll join this riffraff,
I'll be careful not to lose my precious stuff,
laptop case and hand bag, that's all I've got,
love for you, for what is worth, and that's the lot.


Μιας και ο Άρης ξέρει
για τη ιστορία και την μελετία,
πρέπει να τον ρωτήσω κάποτε
και για τη Γεωμετρία.


Since Ares knows
about history, and about studies,
I must ask him sometime
about geometry also.

"Cosmic Youth",
I donít know what it means,
but I like the way you wear
your blue jeans.

Since they say, take a bet,
who dares wins,
we can play,
what you say?
The day begins!

11. DAMA CUPA (8)

I take myself too seriously,
you donít have to believe,
I only wish we could condone
this moto,
live and let live.

That was insane, Lemonia,
but let's pretend it's cool,
to do a job, letís do it right,
by choosing the right tool,

my tool is song,
but yours is love,
so love me, help me sing,
my dama cupa, queen of hearts,
letís fly with golden wings.

The hour is late and I must go,
the boarding will soon start,
even if wrong to have done so,
I keep you in my heart.


Μερικές διαστάσεις δεν έχουν μιλήσει,
μα θα βρώ και γι' αυτές κάποια λύση,
το παλιό στο καινούργιο μπερκέτι κολλάει,
σαν αρχίζει η καρδιά να μιλάει.

Να χορέψει στη rumba, να πιεί guarapo,
ξεκινώ με μια aria da capo,
που αλλάζει τα λόγια σαν αλλάξει την όψη
και περνά τη μορφή στα "Υπ' Όψη".

Μαντολίνα, κιθάρες, σουραύλια και λύρες,
κι' αγκαλιά στο γιαλό με δυό μπύρες,
'Ήταν έτσι, δεν ήταν, μα γιατί τα θυμάμαι?
Στον Περαία μ' αυτά δεν κολλάμε.

Ας το τέλι να κλάψει, κι' όποια τύχει ν' ακούσει,
στους γιαλούς ίσως κάνει γιουρούσι,
η αγάπη περνάει μα η γεύση της μένει,
εξηγώντας: δεν πήγε χαμένη.

EPEA PTEROENTA 2017/1 (14)

Some dimensions have not talked as yet,
but I will find a solution about them also,
the old to the new fits like a glove,
when the heart starts talking.

To dance the rumba, to drink guarapo, (9)
I begin with an Aria da Capo, (10)
that changes the words when it changes its face,
and passes the shape into "things to do".

Mandolins, guitars, Pan pipes and lyres,
and we at each other's bosom, by the sea, with two beers,
was it like that, was it not, but why should I remember?
In Piraeus we donít take notice of such things.

Let the string cry, and whoever happens to listen,
she may make an attack on the sea shores,
love passes, but its taste remains,
explaining: It was not all for nothing.


Relative to where we stand,
what is present, what is past?
With a void in between,
to dictate what we must,
let's pretend to understand.

Since we understand fuck all,
we can turn the big to small,
and the small we can term "Big",
players of the premier league,
but you still donít give a fig.

Well then, how about this:
you recall that half-hour kiss?
Under yonder plane tree,
when we both were feeling free,
just say so, if you agree.

That time point, yours and mine,
can't be touched by our today,
it can't hide in sunshine,
cannot stop its own play,
(that is why you can never kill a day)
wish me luck, have a nice day!


I had a winter full of cares,
I faced whatever came,
I paid my unfair taxes and my unfair fares,
and I know who to blame.

I blame Europe's every priest and every politician:
"the lights are dim, but keep them so, donít call the electrician".

We do not need your Terabytes
to store our lives in "cloud",
we need our children, flying kites,
proclaim with voice loud:

Give us our future, all you lot,
you owe it to us,
donít put the poison in the pot,
just for a bit of cash.


I'm sure you have done all you can,
for me should be enough,
I will not cry if you run,
I will just have a laugh.

That means, I've learnt to give my time,
to others more in need,
and to forgive a petty crime,
if petty was indeed.

But not forgive social crimes of Brussels bureaucrats,
chop the head off of banker-thieves and new-liberal prats.

United we still can stand,
divided we fall,
I hope by now you understand,
"sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll,
and out of work and on the doll".

Now that you are out of work,
young fool, old fool, whatever,
how much champagne can you uncork?
You haven't been very clever.

"We did not get everything right,
intention though was good,
some had a problem with fore-site,
some others with fresh food(!)

We did discuss our every fart,
and still we are at it",
I thought, that's not much of a start,
so I donít buy this shit.

This Brave New World, full of the same
ancient lies, but worse,
we're out of cash, out of the game,
still we can live, of course.


My English verses have become repetitive refrains,
every EN PLO (11), and every flight, and all the cars and trains,
the variation is too little, this world needs to fight back,
do it not for us but for our kids, with love and bits of luck.

Keep your position in one line,
donít give an inch of ground,
as I was yours and you were mine,
this is another round.

My English verses have become some poetry of sorts,
I do not know what is the term in European courts,
but then again, Europe is done, the idea false,
when faced with danger and revolt its Christian past recalls :-)

So much in common we do share,
forgetting all the rest,
if truth bites back we say "don't care,
I did it for the best!".

Ok guys, have it your way, but I do not agree,
I only said once a lie, under that plane tree,
so, I feel innocent enough compared with your hot dog
(or was hot god?),
I'll let you have your tasty meal, reach home, sleep like a log,

when I get up, I'll have a wash, get an espresso cup,
check the face book, do a few likes, caress you in your nap,
take up again the thread of songs, change the balance point,
of future more, and less of past, in florid counterpoint.


I thought to write some music for a change,
but this is an uncomfortable trip,
when I'm again within your "loving range",
I'll know what to keep and what to skip.

I thought so many things these past few years,
which always failed to materialize,
I'm left with so much dreaming in arrears,
that I donít care if truths became lies.

I'll keep on dreaming cause they cannot tax it,
suspect, correct, denounce or understand,
at worst to each other they can only fax it,
as proof that alien beings creep in the land.

You cannot have your pie after you eat it,
but eat it you must do if you would live,
I think you're satisfied, so now bit it,
the only way it works is take and give.

I'm flying still but soon I will be landing,
the English channel is beneath this craft,
good morning, Lemonia, it's not demanding,
try it and you will find, it was not daft.

1 Castella Hill = the hill of the Piraeus peninsula in the Saronic gulf.
2 Falira = old and new Faliro = Athenian and Piraean suburbs respectively.
3 Trabarifas = Manolis Trabarifas, a song literary frivolous taxi driver character.
4 Freatys = Piraean suburb
5 Bournova = a suburb of Smyrna in Asia Minor
5 Bournova boat = refering to an old type of omnibus.
6 "Que serra, serra," = what will be, will be - from the well-known song.
7 Aegina = an island in the Saronic gulf, facing Athens and Piraeus.
8 Dama Cupa = Queen of Hearts (in playing cards)
9 Guarapo = a drink from sugar canes (alcoholic or not)
10 Aria da Capo = an operatic form/instruction, meaning: take the song from the beginning.
11 En Plo = Homeric Greek, meaning travel by sea.
12 Pour fem-fatal, sauce ŗ choix, = for the fatal woman, sauce at her choice.
13 Si je tíaime, prends garde ŗ toi! = If I love you, take heed. (From Carmen-Habanera)
14 EPEA PTEROENTA = Homeric Greek for "Flying Words"
15 Serpantina = a paper tape, very colourful that people use in Carnival celebrations
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Old 07-18-2017, 02:57 PM   #2
Poet Chick
Angeline's Avatar
Angeline is offline
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Jazzonia
Posts: 25,676
Hiya Pel. You wrote all that in one long flight? My mind is boggling!

My overall impression is that it's too long and too big in scope for one poem or song, but I think you know that already. Beyond that I see things in your English version that need fixing. For example in The Lead, S1L2 it should be "straight" not "strait." And in To Start a Song and Weave It, S2L2,4 "give" does not rhyme with "weave." And I have questions about the verb tenses and other potential suggestions, but I'm not sure your purpose is to have poems/lyrics in English. So I'll await your comment on that. (And man you're prolific!)

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