July 6, 2009

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  Lament for a Fallen Son 

  (Maniot Mirologia translated and adapted from the Greek)*

   

  O my Yianni my noble pallikar

  So young and brave so tall and strong

  Your footstep silent as the wolf

  Your bearing lordly as the lion

  O my cypress with roots so deep

  O my drink of water cold and pure

  O my radiant cross atop our shining church

   

  You were my moon and stars that brightened night

  You were the sun that warmed my every day

  Your fathomless eyes so blue so keen

  Your eyebrows dark and arched and proud

  Your curly hair so thick so strong

  Where nightingales could make their nests

  To sing your praises endlessly

   

  You were my chandelier of trembling jewels

  That made our nights brighter than fire

  You were my marble church with dome so fine

  That we shall never see completed

  And when you walked

  It was as if a leaf danced with the wind

  And I still hear the silence of your song

   

  And when you came to sit with us

  It was as if an eagle nestled down upon its crag

  O my sweet child my shining crown

  You fell defending our honor and our name

  And when you fell you broke our hearts

  And plunged our home into an everlasting gloom

  I kiss your eyes my son and close them now

  With silver coins

   

   

   

  * In the very southern part of the Peloponnesos of Greece known as

  "The Mani" there are special old women who sing the "mirologia"

  (Songs for The Dead)... These are spontaneous expressions of grief

  for the fallen men in the vicious vendettas that were common in that

  part of the country and existed for many generations... A friend who 

  travelled there many years ago with a wire recorder, captured some

  of these lamentations and I have translated a number of them,

  one of which is posted here...

   

   

  • 2:49 pm
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