Spiros K. Karamountzos
Spiros K. Karamountzos is a famous Greek poet and author. He was born in Karya, a village in Argolida. He was a teacher of the elementary education. Now he is retired.
He is a member of the “Greek Writers Society”, of the “International Writers Association” (I.W.A.) and of the “World Poets Society” (W.P.S.).
His poems have been translated into English, Chinese, Russian and have appeared in national and foreign Anthologies. His writing has received awards from national and international poetry competitions.
He has published the books “WORDS of KARYA” with memories of his village, “KNOWLEDGE LEND WINGS TO INSPIRATION – Spiros Karamountzos is interviewed by Zacharoula Gaitanaki” (2011) and the collections of poetry: “HALCYONS” (2000), “STROKES OF THE BOW” (2004), “DEWDROPS” (2006), “SHEDDING OF LEAVES”(2006), “SUNFLOWERS” (2010), “LOOKING FOR A POET” (2013) and “POET’S GARDEN” (2013).
Selected poems by Spiros K. Karamountzos ---------
Poet’s garden is a small heaven on earth
for inspiration, flowering and fruitfulness.
It is an extension of sun lounge,
a wide view into the open sea
and with open horizon eastwards.
A few fruit trees,
green laying out bushes
and many colorful fragrant flowers.
All they are his long personal choice.
Every tree with its symbolism.
Fir tree, almond tree, olive tree, apple tree,
walnut tree, fig tree, pomegranate tree and laurel.
A big climbing vine and other small vines
have a special place
in his garden and in his heart.
Currant, “fileri”,Muscat, sour grapes and siderites
are some of his favorite eatable variety of grapes.
But there is not a garden – orchard without flowers.
Climbing roses on fences, daisies,
chrysanthemums, cyclamens of field,
sunflowers, narcissus, hyacinths,
violets, dahlias, chamomile, poppies,
anemones, freesia, origan, tea and other.
Big and small earthen flower pots,
with basil, carnations, gardenias, geraniums
give other dimensions in the garden’s beauty.
They create not only a superabundance of aesthetics.
The garden tools (hoe, mattock, pick,
rake), the pruning hook, the saw
and the hedge clippers
in the hands of poet – gardener,
intervene masterly, with patience
and they shape the garden
on a daily and seasonal basis.
An annual frantic feast
of colors, sounds and fragrances.
Birdsongs, buzz of the bees
and many other insects,
babble of water, rustling of leaves,
a unique sight and a listening experience.
Season succeeds season,
with their distinguishing marks.
Early spring and dewdrops,
winter frosts and flakes of snow
and the poet experiences with his senses
the changes of nature.
Pensively, he is walking
with his head bent on the ground,
he goes to and fro.
He looks like swinging
in the space and time.
Often he stops, observes,
he smells a flower,
he tastes a fruit,
he chats with the trees
the butterflies and loquacious birds.
He dreams with open eyes
and he takes off for new creations,
according to the stimuli and the weather,
sometimes he lies in the sun
and shrinks in a place sheltered from the wind,
sometimes he comes back in a hurry
to his permanent and favorite chair,
under the deep shade, climbing vine
near to a stone fountain.
There, it awaits him the round, country, red table,
full of leaves, flowers, books, copybooks, pencils
and he is getting ready to write.
He drinks a swig of medium – sweet Greek coffee,
he makes some notes and rubs out some other.
He spends countless creative hours
in his garden
in this cool place,
cultivating, reading and writing.
now and for ever,
your garden is in flower,
your mind creates.
THINGS OF THE PAST
High up in the sky I look the cloud
and I ask it about you
but it weeps
when it speaks about the past.
Don’t tread well on wood
and don’t make a new friend
before you are sure enough
with your mind and your eyes.
I try to sing
the great of the “modest”
and in time that I beat
I always step on the ground.
SHEDDING OF LEAVES
Mind’s shedding of leaves
in the hour of nightfall,
signs of the sky
to tell you: Go on !
As long as the small
hanging oil lamp sheds a light
on the altar of love,
children and the young
can’t have a pale face.
DEWDROPS of LOVE
you can brim over
only with love.
Beat, my heart,
only if you are in love.
The fragrance of life.
for all my life.
At nights, I go for a stroll
with my star.
Your love is for me
for me and you.
Balsam for hearts
With your silence
and the sweetness of your eyes,
you told me everything.
Sweetness and spooning
and love’s oaths.
A fragrant rose
full of dewdrops.
A gift of love.
I dreamt that you allegedly
Amen, my love.
Day by day
I want you most.
It’s a good sign.
With minor repairs
a house doesn’t cement.
It needs love.
My flower vase
with your cyclamens.
This is much the best.
with your smile
that it is a jewel for you.
The stallion of poetry
gallops in the mind.
English translation by Zacharoula Gaitanaki