Paraskevi Memou

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Paraskevi Memou {1961}. Film director .Poet.
She was born and raised in the Skepastos village of Kalavrita, in the north of the Peloponnese.
In 1984 and 1985 his poems were published published in the Hydria and Ostraka magazines.
His first directorial work was the short film ‘ALTAMIRA’.
He has collaborated with important Greek actors.
The film based on his poetry, entitled ‘Mega to tis Thalassis Kratos’, was shot in 2008.
He has collaborated as a news journalist with many newspapers in the Peloponnese.
In 1985 his first collection of poems entitled ‘Diavenontas’ came out.
In 2006 he published a book with news articles, entitled “AFONON DIAGEIN”.
His poems have been published in many anthologies.
The Greek encyclopedia HARI PATSI hosts his poems.
His collection of poems entitled ‘Sto vraho tis Andromedas’ came out in 2018.
The collection of poems entitled ‘Ise o anthropos’ came out a year later, in 2019.
He has won numerous awards in international competitions.
In the latest edition of the Nosside World Poetry Prize – Nosside World Poetry Prize, in 2019, one of his poems, translated into Italian by Giorgia Karvunaki, was awarded, entitled ‘Supplicants of the Gods of the poor’.

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Ο ίδιος…. Άλλος

 

Ως άλλος Πιλάτος,

Θήρευσες λαίμαργες ενοχές,

Στάζοντας νάματα πρωινής πάχνης,

Σε στήμονες όρκων,

Καταδικάζοντας την ομορφιά της ώρας,

Ως ντροπή της ηδονής.

Σκαρφίστηκες καμώματα ανομολόγητα,

ίδιος… οικείος… ξένος συνάμα.

Δραπέτης…. Λαθρεπιβάτης …. Άστοργων φόρων,

στο όνομα της μόνης ανιδιοτελούς συλλαβής,

που γράφεται με ιδρώτα και γιατρεύεται με σοφίσματα,

σε αμόλυντο κορμί εύσαρκα.

Κούρσεψες τα σάβανα του θανάτου,

μέσα από αναστεναγμούς άηχων ψαλμών

και λύτρωσες την αφάνειά σου,

σε αναστροφές και αντανακλάσεις.

Ίδιος…. Άλλος…

Εσύ…. Και συνάμα….  Εκείνος…

Μη φεύγεις…

Η απάτη…

Ήταν μόνο…. Παιχνίδι του μυαλού.

 

……………………………………………………………..

 

Yourself…someone else

 

As another Pilate

you preyed on voracious guilts,

dripping elixirs of morning dew

on vows’ stamens,

condemning the beauty of the moment

as pleasure’s shame.

You conceived unconfessed antics,

yourself… familiar… yet, a stranger.

Stowaway…fugitive… of unloving debts,

in the name of the only selfless syllable,

written in sweat and cured with fallacies,

on the flesh of an immaculate body.

You pillagedthe shroud of death

through the sighs of silent psalms

and redeemed your obscurity

with inversions and reflections.

Yourself… someone else

You…while also… him…

Don’t go…

The deception…

Was only… a mind game.

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