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Manos Stefanidis | Greece

Η ποίηση είναι κώδικας ζωής, είναι οι σκέψεις που αναπνέουν και οι λέξεις που πυρπολούν τον βίο.

“Τι θα ήταν η ζωή χωρίς την ποίηση;
Τι θα ήταν η ποίηση χωρίς τις τρανές της γλώσσας οδοιπορίες;”
Το Culture Book συνομιλεί μέσω του Patras Word Poetry Festival με ποιητές και ποιήτριες που δημιουργούν ανά τον κόσμο. Η παρουσίαση, η καταγραφή, η μελέτη και αυτών των ποιητών και ποιητριών είναι από εκείνα που οφείλουμε στην τέχνη της ποιήσεως.
Η καταγραφή χωρίς μεγέθυνση των αληθινών διαστάσεων του μεγαλείου της ζωής, που είμαστε έτοιμοι να την καταστρέψουμε, μέσα και από τις κειμενικές αξίες των σύγχρονων ποιητών και ποιητριών, διαμορφώνει και την καθημερινότητα της σύγχρονης λογοτεχνίας.
 

The angels in my life

I am lucky. There have always been angels in my life. Sometimes mournful and sad,
sometimes blithe, amorous, overwhelmed with joy for life. Sometimes there were white and
transparent, sometimes incorporeal and inconspicuous and sometimes total physical…blue,
earthen Cherubs and red, juicy Seraphs. Every time I think about it, I blush.

But always my angels had wings. Beautiful, long, golden wings, a little
cloudy and a little earthy. Stable, safe wings for every use. In other words, wings to fly high and upwind, not
decorative wings. Because my angels, they were, and they are fighting. They don’ t
impersonate the angels by wearing plastic wings like other angels in an inelegant
performance in a theater.

They were and they stay real angels from solid angelic material… Angels who always fly.
Besides, they can’t do anything else. And me, I can fly with them. At least, occasionally. I
borrow, namely, something from their volatile obsession and I can fly high. Anyway, I cogitate
the human condition, it means that I observe my downfall with triumph. Not like the leaves’
fall but like the falling stars. They are lucky whoever did flights. Even though they fell then.

How many times I count that the angels’ wings and their travels didn’t become totally mine.

The angels – guardians (protectors) were and they are always beside me even though they
are a long way off. Just like now, for example. But I am not complaining.

Besides, this is the Angel’s job: they fly, and they fly high…and finally they go away.

Childish

With incompleteness and mistakes
And after many years of practice
We learn since school-age period
The importance (role)of youth
And each and every one of us without exception acts like he is the main actor.
And when we impersoned enough this role
And after we feel comfortable in his own shoes and behind his masks
And out of the blue(suddenly) the director starts yelling
What an old fashion style! How unacceptable!
You play like elders (old men).

Βιογραφικό Μάνος Στεφανίδης