Well done, well done/ with this hand of marble
White roses, open doors, rise the sun and fall
Flit and float, under the river’s  flow/ shadows
thrilled/
Arrow in my hand/  as a tool for lovers/ beyond
the Dawn/
Keep the chief/ inside your deep velvet pocket/
Full of almonds/ to feed  the thirstiest of  dry soul/
Let the civilians/ to arrange the war and burn
the dead/
Well done my Lord/  well done/  those yours/
lie  on the edge of  seas/
What left is a narrow place for dwarfs/ to plug
the pledges/
Othello handkerchief/  under  my  pillow / to  remember
before dark/

©MARIA PANOUTSOU

Είμαι  η Αντιγόνη και όχι ο Ελπήνορας

Je suis Antigone oui,  moi
Je suis morte  oui  je ne vis plus  je vivais
Maintenant je suis morte mais  de temps en temps
je viens   et je reviens avec moi / j ‘amène le désir  
de vivre encore une fois / mon corps frémit de nostalgie
de poser de questions tant  des  questions tant des réponses
c’ est un chemin  triste mon amour  pour vous
Je suis morte oui  je ne vis plus/ Je vivais
mais de temps, en temps  je  reviens
à  travers  vos désirs  vos  aspirations vos appels  
c’ est vous qui me faites   venir   ici / et moi  
moi/ le rien et vous les tous
c’ est pour cela   que je  reviens    
je  suis  ici  encore une fois
pour  plaire , sentir,   danser  et  chanter  
comprendre et aimer,  encore une fois    

                   

©maria panoutsou    Mάιος  Ιούλιος 2016
http://mariapanoutsoupoetry.blogspot.gr/

To Olivia

I am of this world
Α walker  with out hat
Νot man not woman
With breast not  
With  ***** not
Eyes  and ears with me
Breaith and  smiles with me
Warm my days with  silence
Cooking and  knitting with  saturation
Who are you ?
Why you want to order me ?
I need no one
I am ready to die
Is this that you ask?

©Maria Panoutsou

{......} once and for ever
Shelton Street
with the mysterious light
during the dawn hour/
still dark /
but not dark completely/{,,,,{
Shelton street


By Maria Panoutsou.

The telegraph to a friend Days of life ….Number unknown ……Till the end of cosmos



©MARIA PANOUTSOU    Unpublished  Poem


The telegraph  to a friend
Days of life  ….Number  unknown  ……Till the end  of cosmos


The sun raised not too high / Day first  
For ever dragged/ her look a dawn
In fitting and non / wants an end to end
My land and  / my time / people  together with  /
Favorite hunts/ just for once/ Second  day
Miserable life without breath and blow /
But before and now / creeps something bitter /
Hard rock pass / heavy and rigorous /
 As we get older/  we the  youth / me folder hidden /
Under  the dress  gesticulate a pray/
It is in and out  Victorious psalm / Third day
Landscape cloudy / but beloved / and  women alone /
Nourish  baby and death timed    / and a man drown   lake/
With eyes  crying / Fourth day /
Dogs  and frogs/ and lonely pedestrians  / out of the pavement / Wishing a   floppy  river /with bright sun/
Day Fifth / and you letter is in my heart/ over my mouth
Over my own life  /stay with out  changes/  Day ……
…….   forgotten   numbers  and  chapters  /

Letra: Maria Panoutsou
Traducción del Griego: Antonio Chincoa



Siéntate,
coge una silla
y siéntate.
el sol está lejos aún
cuando llegue la hora
lo veremos
traerá luz y calor
lejos está todavía el sol
y hace frío
y hace frío
es,
cuando venga la hora
lo sentirás
lo sentiremos juntos
y te irás
siéntate,
coge una silla
y siéntate

HESIONE*

Shut in her room with the scent of roses
pounded with wet stones
picked one by one from the riverbank and shining still,
Hesione struggled to remove the clasps
which she placed on a piece of cloth weaved by her grandma.

Days later she lay in bed wrapped in a sacred vestment.
Secret hopes torpedoed her body
and for a moment removed the clasps from the groin.
All worthless.

People were buried nearby.
The freshly-dug graves smelled of tamarisks.
She and the Thoans scanned the sea.
Nothing reminded one of who she was and why she mourned.
She forgot all about Hercules, thurifications and joys never to be.
Now all worthless.  


POEM  FORM THE COLLECTION SALUADER
BY  MARIA PANOUTSOU  TRANSLATED IN ENGLISH BY GIANNIS GOUMAS

last night
I saw  my mother in my dreams
she was travelling with me/
in a train
and she shown me something
outside the window
as I  was trying to understand
and I  moved my head,
a movement saying yes, yes, yes
but  I was wondering /
what my mother said to me /
following her finger
outside the window
as the  brise air /
caress her  foggy face  

μου έδειχνε
τον περασμένο χρόνο

βήματα αβέβαια,
μπουσούλισμα,
τρεμουλιαστά τρεξίματα
ματιές με χρόνο άπειρο
αναζήτηση αγκαλιάς
ζεστασιά αιώνια
στόμα που ανοίγει αχόρταγο για ήχους
καρδιά που σφυροκοπά
και βγαίνει ώρες ώρες από τα στηθάκια
γυρίζει το κεφάλι  και κοιτά
ακούει  τον χτύπο/σχεδόν τον βλέπει
μόνο το αίμα δεν φαίνεται/
ζαλίζεται γελά και κλαίει/
μαγεύεται και αφήνεται
σε κούνια αγκαλιά/ σε χέρια  στιβαρά/
εκρήγνυται από  αγάπη και  
λέει μαααμαααα  


Μαρία Panoutsou

pas un mot

nuages au ciel
l' autumn va venir bientôt
moi seule, avec des autres
moi avec des autes, seule
j' attends le vent dehors
comme la seule et la meilleure
moi silence pas un mot
on a oublié de parler
J'ai oublié de parler

©maria panoutsou    2016

Στο τρίτο πρόσωπο
Ξύπνησε αργά/ με αργή πεθυμιά/
Στο παράθυρο θολούρα και πάχνη/
Έγραφε με δάχτυλα παγωμένα/
Με γράμματα ισχνά/ ένα σ’ αγαπώ/
Και με έναν ήλιο/ για γέμισμα του κάδρου
Το δωμάτιο στο φως της λάμπας/
Στην ασφάλεια τεσσάρων τοίχων/
Εικόνες διαπερνούν/ τούβλα και τσιμέντο/
Φτάνουν σ’ εκείνη τρυφερά/ κι’ απροσδόκητα/
Ο κόσμος της/ και ο κόσμος του/ συγγενεύουν με ένα φιλί
Κορμί με κορμί /και μια ανάσα γαργαλεύει τα ρουθούνια
Έξω όλα γκρίζα και βροχερά/ με μυρωδιές ανάμεικτες/
Ζυγώνει η ώρα του αποσπερίτη/ και η πόλη δική της

©Μαρία Πανούτσου


Talking on the third person or Akin to a kiss
She gets up on the wrong side and

late /midday /noon calmly  lust

In the blur window box /with  frost  

that rimes the glass /Wrote with icy fingers /

With meager letters /   ‘love you’  You/

And with a sun / for filling the frame

She paints over and over

The room just a light lamp /

To be in  the safety of four walls /

Images pierce / bricks with cement /

They arrive at that/ tender / and ' surprisingly /

Her world of / and his world /akin to a kiss

Body with body / and  breath tickling  nostrils

Out all gray and rainy / with mixed scents /

Approaching the time of the  morning star /

and  she / the city  her  own

©MARIA PANOUTSOU

Κανείς δεν είναι άτρωτος να ξέρεις, γι αυτό να λες
είμαι καλά ευχαριστώ,
Στερνές και μη στερνές οι λέξεις, μη φανταστείς  
λιγότερο τις αγαπώ,
Πως υποφέρουν να το ξέρεις,  το ξέρουνε  κι αυτές
το φώναξε κι ο ποιητής,
Και βασανίζονται και θάβονται σαν τα σκυλιά
στην άσφαλτο  της προσμονής


maria panoutsou

REFUSAL


Throw the weak days away
for them to fight with vultures and win,
for all to be done quickly and brightly
like the most brilliant stars,
like the white nights,
when loves die and in the morning lovers split
with a pain between the eyes, between the ribs.
You and I shall fight together with pleasures and appeals,
transient and futile changes.
The love I forsook to be with you first and alone,
doesn’t wait for the moon to rise
and retaliate for my deed.
I must be going now, before you realize that
I don’t really exist,
that I’m only light
casting its cells for the last time
on a human face.

Βy Maria Panoutsou  Translated from the Greek language 
 by Yannis Goumas

Narcissus,

sometimes I seek confirmation
in a complete vacuum

or before the eyes of others,

in their hearts,
yet very often images  

of my own pictures

sometimes at my cat’s touch
or, the touch of children

rather rarely in the work of others

humanity rejoices in every project
but more often in footprints

left by people my ancestors,

and the scars left by my own people
not appreciated  soon enough before their absence

Narcissism?   not so negative, you see?    



maria panoutsou

Place to stay  
out to wonder
Place to announce
the yes and no
To look and feel alone
with an echo
Outside on the streets are people walking
Inside the warmness of neutrality
You hesitate to rest or to activate the will
Illision accepteble without methermineia

Maria Panoutsou
Barbican  London host area  January 2016

you are the swan
that I was jealous off,

during a  greenish  morning
at  the  national garden,
so I photographed you

neck, face and anguished eyes
full of grace movement,

body defeathering by me
with the momentum of a lifetime

can t  forget, can t ask,
a brief contriteness

©Maria Panoutsou
March 2017

[ ....you came like a saint and you went like a thief or you went like a saint and you came like a thief...]

©Maria Panoutsou

Sidelong slop glance

with stealthy glance/picked the petals
of this flower/ nothingness to attract
and retained the green leaves / hyacinth
and orchids in a glass jar / light
to penetrate the random look/ humidity /
a micron  air   blow/ molding/ or there /  
with the world that I loved/ companionship/
beauty is not hidden / neither ask /neither die

©Maria Panoutsou

Maria Panoutsou


Glance Story
Third  Version 2018-2019


And pray to God
to have mercy upon me
M.P

I am with him
city is not so cold.

Time is a game,
for children and lovers,
space, is game for stars,

Moving between places,
to find an easy corner,
for our naked bodies.

A little peaceful venue,
for our eternity,.

I collect flowers, for him,
he is preparing
paper, for me  to write
a story.

We smile, as we are walking
having inside our glance,
the face of each other.

How easy Winter is,
when you love someone.

Not the  NEABHOUR ‘S  love  
Or  the utopia one,
Or  like  an insect,
who is flying around the  noise,
and not be able to any one  
to catch it.

For this ‘winterlove’ of mine,
cause,  
Is a love near to  nothingness

~*~
Maria  Panoutsou,

this river / gray  and   brown / will move
so says tradition / lets stay faithful
since we have not / something else to recommend /
Maria  Panoutsou  Libations


αυτό το ποτάμι / το γκρι, καφέ/ θα το περάσουμε
έτσι λέει η παράδοση/ ας μείνουμε πιστοί
αφού δεν έχουμε/ κάτι άλλο να προτείνουμε/
μ.π σπονδές


questo fiume / grigio marrone / si muoverà
così dice la tradizione / lasciare fedele
dal momento che non abbiamo a /
qualcos'altro da raccomandare /

or
questo fiume / grigio e marrone /
lo leggerà
così dice la tradizione /
let rimangono fedeli
Dal momento che non abbiamo /
qualcos'altro di proporre /


Libagioni  Maria Pnoutsou

homee come on dit   Salut

l 'homme
l' homme
                           toujours

l' homme

mon homme

Maria Panoutsou

Dedicated  to a shadow  





I am Dorian Gray, nothing can stop me
Until, one day,
I found    a  love (my  love) inside a box of chocolate
«Open the box» the box shouts to me.
I thought I was clever enough
and I laugh at it.
So the box opens itself and
from inside, a prince appears.
and I blush with shyness
and makes the tea for me.

«What can I do for you Dear prince»
I said.  
He replies with a joyful glance to me.  
And then he touches my breast,
and I become red of shy.
I loved him at once.
And take his  hands.
We were happy but one night,
my love finds me dead under our common  bed.
And he took me out near the sea,
where he gave me  a one and two and three, times  
the kiss of life, and a cup of tea

I am Dorian Gray and no one will stop me
Only my love, who knows to kiss
and make the tea for me.

©Maria Panoutsou

No one of us all, is invulnerable
be aware of it  and say thank you
be able to say it,  I'm fine, I mean it  
Sternum and non sternum words,
you can t say  that I love them less,  
how  they  suffer, I am  aware of it
words  know  it too, listen the shouting
of the poet, not  humans only
but  words too, are  tortured and
buried, like dogs on a street asphalt
anticipation


Maria Panoutsou

a man to a woman  

"No one can **** you, if you do not want to (die), (unless you are in a war zone) or you are a victim of a mad killer, unless a child unwilling to come out of your womb, or your lover burns your home while you are sleeping deeply, or you live in a slum full of diseased mice and prostitutes. This is the story of my life, waiting a death to come."

Maria Panoutsou

Second version


Speaking

No one  can **** you, if you  do not want to /  except a  present war or a mad  killer/ except a child unwilling to come out of your womb/or a fire  that your lover burns  when you deeply sleep/ or to live in a   cheap  neighborhood with  mices and  prostitutes all around/ think  this is the  story of my  life/ waiting a death to come


a man to a woman  

Maria Panoutosu

I’ll tear up the paper and go back in history.
When I still hadn’t met you, in Columbus’ time.
For your sake I combed my hair, did the washing,
dried hankies and watered the hyacinth.
On the door hangs the cloth of expiation.
It’ll become dusty with time, and the junk dealer will charge for it as much as for a quick cup of coffee.
Maria  Panoutsou

FROM GREEK LANGUAGED  TRANSALTED BY  Yannis Goumas

Fishing something alluring  for me                        
Something that oozes pleasure
Penurious of ornaments/ lets say
Dewdrop’ expiration/without echo
An aperture escape / anything/
A  friendship afternoon/with rime
Some silence/ with glances fleeting /
Maybe/ a table /with white lid

Maria Panoutsou

Narcissus?

sometimes I seek confirmation
in a complete vacuum

or before the eyes of others,
in their hearts,

yet very often, images  
of my own pictures

sometimes, at my cat’s touch
or, the touch of children

rather rarely in the work of others
humanity rejoices in every project

but more often in footprints
left by  my ancestors,

and the scars left by my own people
not appreciated  soon enough,
  
Narcissism?   not so negative, you see?    


©Maria Panoutsou

Are you my father?



I travelled  among unknown men
In lands beyond the sea
W. Wordsworth



Dedicated to Y.A

Are you my father?
My eyes attracted by you  like an iced forest
Υour human name  been called  by my blood
Breathless/  face  to face /with you
Fall as dead bird /with  slow motion
Against  your blessing  words full of grace

forgive me for  your other name
sing it/ at  all nights /far from you
cluttering your human face
delve into the train tracks
or searching  gracing  lyric lines/ of yours
whether to find and then recite
before we run out of  words
before the night will sleep on my eyelids
and  not say the end is near
let it comes  / will come  /only  with loneliness
my father /  brother/   lover/   son

©Maria Panoutsou

no words anymore / to say /
or a song to sing
/a birdie / and this / mute /
beating the beak on the glass
in my window /
up and down / in flimsy twig /
ash / and  dry /
this world /the perfect world /
the good one / the new one
/the everywhere / dead /

©Maria Panoutsou

Far from me

keep your selves away from me

avoid me

my existence is rumbled to the universe

and you looked sorrowfully at the table full of papers

and sadly you bend slowly to pick up what has been remains








© Maria Panoutsou




(Transaltd by me from Greek Language)

Είμαι Ελληνίδα μέχρι το μεδούλι των κοκάλων μου
τι αίμα τρέχει στις φλέβες μου
φαντάζομαι το αίμα όλων των ανθρώπων

Μεγάλωσα σε αυτόν τον τόπο
ο τόπος με καθόρισε όχι μόνο
κι η μάνα και ο πατέρας
και η ιστορία τους
μετά οι παππούδες
και η ιστορία των ανθρώπων που πέρασαν από εδώ



Είμαι άνθρωπος του πλανήτη γη
γυναίκα στο φύλλο
Ελληνίδα Ορθόδοξη στον πολιτισμό
Αθηναία και Τζιώτισσα  σε γέννηση και επιλογή


Μ' αρέσει να γνωρίζω  άλλους ανθρώπους
πολιτισμούς
να  μιλάω για μας σε εκείνους
και  εκείνοι  για  εκείνους σε μένα

Ταξίδευσα αρκετά.
Γυρνάω πάντα στον τόπο που γεννήθηκα.
Εφιάλτες καμιά φορά πως πεθαίνω σε ξένο μέρος
δεν ξέρω τι ν' αγαπήσω πιο πολύ τον τόπο μου ή κάποιο τόπο της γης  αυτό που λένε -όπου γης και πατρίδα.

Υπήρξα κόρη  σ;yζυγος ερωμένη φίλη δασκάλα  μητέρα γιαγιά
Η τέχνη τα υπερβαίνει όλα.
Όλα τα άλλα δεν τα καταλαβαίνω ή μάλλον τα αφήνω σε όσους γνωρίζουν πιο πολλά.
23/ 03/ 21
maria panoutsou

And  I pray to God to have mercy upon me


I   love a man,
city  is not so cold,
time is a game,
for children and lovers
space, is a  game for stars,
moving between places,
to  find a corner,
for our naked bodies,
a little peaceful  venue,  
for our eternity,
I collect flowers,  
he is preparing  
the paper,  
we smile, as we are walking
having  inside our glance,  
the face of each other,
how easy Winter  is,
when you love someone,
not the love  
the utopia one,  
but the one
like a nectar-feeding insect
who is flying around the noise,  
and  not be able  to catch  it,
this   is  the  ‘winterlove’
a butterfly.



©Maria Panoutsou

Turn round/ It is me/ there/ in the dark/
You see those shadows? like small  angle flying?
Next to the chair, by the stove/

On the first stair,/ at the slightly open door
As you go to shut the dooΡ/ shrinks back/
remains open

Yes/ I let you go/ dreaming a freedom/
what kind freedom ?  

The world is full of bodies,/ mine/
was the enslavement of your soul/

You said/And you ?
With this face/ only pressed to a woman’s breast
Can I forget/

Τhe yearning that sews my womb/
It was raining that summer/ I recall/I am  aged
You were the age of fifteen and me the age of  ages/

MARIA PANOUTSOU    SALUADER

slowly
reflections
only a bird  on a corspe
flies around
never say  the meaning
the word  end is the most strong
relations  imitation
in a plain  to  a land of  nothingness
only  children matters
oh mio  child
absence  is a star of loveness



Maria  Panoutsou
31/05/21

You and I/beging / flying above the rocks /
away from the salty / above the  bodkin glance /
invisible / and naked / with a white handkerchief/
between our  fingers /as bare knives /
hidden on the frozen sand / night / and day /  
breath  of yours / smell of my heart /
lightning in  every touch  cream my body
to wire power /or go away lover  /
before it s too late   / or stay and  light  the fire /
to extinguish  stars /as  you re /  the first move /
brackish water / to my breast   /glimpse into a single thought /
lowering sky /to  your feet /what  else can I squawk/
how more am I straining my lips/
quittance  to us/ to appear/

Maria Panoutsou

Η  ΆΧΝΑ ΣΤΟ ΠΑΡΆΘΥΡΟ  ΜΟΥ
Η ΠΑΙΔΙΚΉ ΗΛΙΚΊΑ  ΣΤΟ ΤΕΛΟΣ  ΤΟΥ ΔΡΌΜΟΥ
ΤΟ ΓΕΙΑ  ΣΟΥ ΚΑΙ ΤΑ ΛΈΜΕ




Maria Panoutsou