Once, weary from toil, I grew drowsy and wished to sleep;
I lay down upon my bed and fell asleep.
It seemed to me I was racing through a lovely meadow,
riding a horse, saddled and bridled;
and at my belt I had a sword, a spear within my hand,
I was girded with weapons, with arrows and a bow.
And it seemed to me that boldly I was chasing a doe;
at times she would pause, at times she sped away.
Early in the morning I began the chase, hoping to lay a hand on her;
I ran until the day had passed its noon.
And suddenly the deer vanished from my sight,
and how and when it disappeared, I am at a loss to write.
So I ceased my running, and likewise all my haste,
chasing after the uncatchable and tiring out my horse.
And slowly, slowly I went on, gently moving on my way,
marvelling at the world, its flowers and all its beauties.
And toward evening I reached the middle of the meadow,
and found a wondrous tree, and wished to dismount.
I dismounted by the tree and tied my horse,
unfastened my weapons and laid them by my side.
Natalia Kotsani: voice, piano
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto
Ross Daly: tarhu
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani
The place where I dismounted — I mean, the place where I stood —
was the navel of the meadow, and was filled with flowers.
The tree was tender, and thick with leaves;
it bore blossom together with fruit, and fragrant apples.
And countless birds were nesting in the tree,
each singing according to its nature and its tune.
And from the beauty of the tree, the delight of the place,
the melody of the birds, and the toil of the whole day,
I could barely lean back to catch my breath,
and I gazed upon the tree, up toward its crown.
And it seemed to me I saw a swarm of bees nesting there,
with honey in the comb, abundant and stored up.
At once I climbed; I rushed toward it, longing for the food,
and the swarm received me angrily from afar.
So I climbed the tree with great effort and toil,
and sat down in the place where I saw the bees.
I reached out, took hold of the comb, and ate of the honey,
and my mind within me said: “Give the soul what it desires.”
I ate, yet could not be satisfied; I seized at it and still was hungry,
and like a hungry man, I turned again to the food.
Natalia Kotsani: voice, piano
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto, guitar
Ross Daly: lyra
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani
And the bees never ceased to sting me,
and the tree began, as I saw, to sway;
to tremble again and again, to give way, to seem about to fall,
and I stopped eating, overcome by fear.
And I studied the tree, its branches all around,
and looked again within it, watching to see who was shaking it.
And there appeared to me two mice circling the tree,
one white and one black, eagerly gnawing at its root.
So far had they worn it away that it leaned, about to fall,
and the root seemed to bid the crown come down to it.
And at the sight I was terrified and hurried to climb down,
but, caught there as though at the food of the swarm, I remained trapped.
And the tree, which I had thought stood in a meadow,
was on the brink of a precipice, above a dark well.
And as it leaned, it seemed to me to seek the precipice;
the day kept dwindling, and night drew near.
Natalia Kotsani: voice, piano
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto
Ross Daly: lyra
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani
And once I had lost all hope of salvation,
I understood where, in the end, I was destined to arrive.
And I saw a dreadful dragon at the bottom of the well,
gaping wide and waiting for the moment I would fall below.
Then the tree fell, and I went down with it;
the birds flew away, and the bees departed.
And it seemed to me that I came into the dragon’s mouth,
and entered a dark tomb, into earth and sunless ground.
Natalia Kotsani: voice, piano
Tasos Kofodimos: laouto, vocals
Ross Daly: tarhu
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani
And there where I arrived, in that dark place,
a crowd appeared to me, and I heard the tumult of men,
quarrelling over my entrance, speaking about me;
and word went round among them to send some men to see
who had reached Hades, who had caused the disturbance,
and who had opened the gate and entered without leave.
And two appeared to me and came, black and cobwebbed,
like the shadow and outline of young men, greatly troubled.
They greeted me with bowed heads and spoke to me gently,
and I was overcome with fear, for I had no answer to give.
They said to me: “Whence and from where? Who are you? What do you seek?
And without a guide, how do you make your way here in the darkness?
How did you descend here with your soul still in you, how did you come here alive,
and how are you to return from here to your homeland?
Whoever descends to Hades cannot return;
only the Resurrection of the Dead can raise him again.”
Natalia Kotsani: voice, piano
Tasos Kofodimos: laouto
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani
Your breath is fragrant, and your linen garments shine;
one would think you had been running through a meadow and the paths of the plain.
You come from the world, the land of the living.
Tell us if the sky still holds and if the world still stands.
Tell us, does lightning flash, does thunder roll, do clouds gather and rain fall,
and does the River Jordan still ripple and flow?
Are there gardens and trees, and birds that sing?
Are the mountains fragrant, and do the trees still blossom?
Are there cool meadows, does a sweet breeze blow,
do the stars of heaven shine, and the Morning Star?
You travelled through the world, you passed through its lands;
tell us, do the living, who rejoice, still remember us?
Tell us, do they grieve for us, do they mourn us even a little?
Do they still sorrow for us as much as when they buried us?
Do you carry news and letters, consolations for the sorrowful,
here into bitter Hades, blackened with soot?
Read us the letters and tell us the news,
and whatever you have for us in Hades, give it to us — let us have it.
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto
Natalia Kotsani: vocals
Ross Daly: lyra
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Tasos Kofodimos
And at every word they wept, at every other they sighed:
“Part, mute earth! Open, O ground!” they cried;
“and let the gates of Hades be broken down, let the chains fall,
let the dew of heaven enter, let the rays of the sun come in.
Let one of us see another; let a little light appear,
so that the young men may show their faces, and the maidens their beauty.”
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto, pads
Natalia Kotsani: piano, vocals
Ross Daly: tarhu
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Tasos Kofodimos
I saw how they grieved and how they sighed,
and they urged me to tell them how the world goes on.
And as my heart went out to them and I felt great sorrow,
I decided to tell them how the world goes on.
I said to them: “The sky still holds and the world still stands;
of all that you remember, nothing is missing there.
It blossoms, bears fruit, is cultivated, grows and gives forth fragrance;
the twelve-month year turns like a wheel.
Some enjoy the world and do not remember you at all,
while others are consumed by grief and mourn for you.”
They said to me: “Those who rejoice — do they have their share here,
among those they buried in the earth and sent down to Hades?”
“Those who rejoice,” I said, “they too have their share here,
but they have forgotten them and keep apart from them;
with others they enjoy their lives, and those they have forgotten,
as though they had never seen them, as though they had never been in the world.”
Natalia Kotsani: voice, piano
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto
Ross Daly: lyra
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani
And once they had learned all this, they sighed a thousand sighs;
they lowered their voices and changed their tone.
And, as I saw, they rested their cheeks upon their palms,
and their tears ran down like a river.
And when I saw their sorrow, which they showed again,
it then came to my mind to question them.
I said to them: “Whence and from where? And how are you together thus?
And when did you descend, and how long have you been in Hades?”
Hearing my question, they fell down upon the ground;
they wept, then turned their gaze again toward me.
“This question,” they said, “do not ask us any more;
lest our suffering grow greater — be silent, if you please.”
And after a little while, one of them took heart
and turned toward me, and thus replied:
“Since you have asked, I shall tell you,
compelled by necessity here, with these bitter lips.”
We had an elder sister, married somewhere,
sent far from our homeland long before.
Our father thought it right to send us to her,
to share in her joy, as brothers and as friends.
And so we set out upon our journey, and then
our minds were troubled, wondering when our return would be.
Our thoughts were tormented and turned toward ill;
our minds foretold death in a foreign land.
We had not been underway three hours when the castle vanished from sight,
and within another hour evening fell and the first star appeared.
Then the sky grew clear, and there was a great calm;
the night promised fair, as no other night had done.
The young men rejoiced, and all took heart,
and with longing and joy they held their course.
There, toward midnight, the clear sky darkened,
the winds grew wild and the sea began to roar.
Thunder sounded again and again, and lightning flashed; the clouds were in travail,
as though devising how to bring danger upon us.
And as a sheep for slaughter, in the slaughterer’s hand,
lies without hope and looks upon the knife,
so we beheld death before us;
we knew for certain that we were bound to descend to Hades,
for the waves came against the wind,
and the sailors grew afraid and began to tremble.
And at once a squall came upon us, with thunder and snow,
and as soon as it struck, it seized the left-hand rudder;
then the ship fell over, listing to the left,
and made a dreadful crash and seemed to crack.
And a second wave came upon us with the squall,
and the measureless water became our coffin.
The calamity of death found us clasped together,
locked tightly in each other’s arms and filled with boundless sorrow;
and cast us into the depths, still embracing, together,
and Charon received us together into Hades.
And as for the rest of the crew, we did not see what became of them;
we were parted from them, and they from us, as strangers.
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto
Natalia Kotsani: voice, piano
Ross Daly: lyra
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani, Tasos Kofodimos
I was twenty years old, and he a little older;
together we were wed, and each of us had his mate.
For this reason it was granted us to be buried together,
and together to wander and to walk side by side.
And as we reached Hades, our sister reached it too;
she came carrying an infant. And when she turned and saw us,
she stopped her hurried pace, she ceased her haste,
and seeing what she had never expected, she began to marvel:
how in Hades she saw those whom she knew were still alive;
and seeing how they had lost the world, she grieved for them.
With this thought she stood and gazed,
not daring to dismiss as false what seemed unbelievable, but yielding to what fate revealed.
And at last she was convinced; she looked and recognized us,
and once she knew us, she came and drew near.
She seized each of us in sorrow and embraced us,
and then threw herself around our necks.
And with her tears she began to wash her face,
and said to us in wonder:
“Can you truly be those
whom I had eyes to see, whom I had light to behold,
whom I saw held in highest honour, wearing splendid garments?”
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto
Natalia Kotsani: vocals
Ross Daly: lyra
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Tasos Kofodimos
Fortune
A flower was their glory, a blossom was their joy;
and for these the sun brought the treacherous tidings.
Upon snow they laid their foundations, and upon water they built;
now the snow has melted and the waters have scattered.
What they founded has fallen, what they built has cracked,
and now their hearts have been pierced by a double-edged sword.
Fortune bent her bow against them
and emptied her quiver until she struck them all.
She made their hearts the target of a skilful archer
and loosed her arrows, from the last to the first;
and not one of them missed — she wounded them all.
There was no one left for her to strike, for she had killed them all.
Natalia Kotsani: voice, piano
Tasos Kofodimos: laouto
Music: Natalia Kotsani
And toward the end they said to me:
“By now, I think, you have heard it all;
I have told you what happened,
and you have learned it all.
And as for your urging me to tell you
when this came to pass,
I lose all sense of time,
and it slips from my mind;
for in bitter Hades
the sun does not rise,
nor does the light of heaven
send down its radiant glow.
Here no time passes,
no day is set apart;
only the boundless darkness
flows on and stretches ever forward.”
Natalia Kotsani: voice
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto, pads
Music: Tasos Kofodimos, Natalia Kotsani
“Have you any further question? I am about to return,” I said to them.
They said to me: “Wait a little, until those who are absent come,
in case they too wish to send some message,
and to send letters from bitter Hades.”
They spoke among themselves, and one of them turned
and bounded away in haste, as a deer will do.
And in a very little while I saw a great host approaching;
it seemed beyond measure as it came from there.
There I saw young men and maidens, men and youths,
and commanders with bare swords, without their scabbards;
and scattered lords, on foot and on horseback,
with servants beside them, orators and notaries.
I saw deacons in churches, bishops and priests,
and married couples in the bridal chamber, bridegrooms with their brides.
And I saw them bring stools for the notaries to sit upon;
each held a pen, paper and an inkwell.
And around each one there was a crowd urging him on:
one asking for letters, another crying, “Paper!”
“Today a messenger departs,” they would say;
“hurry, do not delay, so that it may be carried.”
And in their haste they took letters, still wet with ink, from the scribes;
some, I saw, sealed them, while others brought them open.
So many pressed upon me to give me letters
that I shuddered at the sight of them and turned away before they could reach me.
They all raised their hands and looked toward me:
“Take the letters!” they cried; “Carry the papers!” they called.
“Carry these writings with you, as words from us,
from bitter Hades — and take care that you do not drop them.”
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto
Natalia Kotsani: voice
Ross Daly: lyra
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani
“Speak also in your own words; tell the grieving ones:
those whom you have long had buried in Hades
are deprived of the sky, they do not see the sun;
the earth is their shroud, the soil the garment they wear.”
Natalia Kotsani: voice
Tasos Kofodimos: voice, laouto, pads
Ross Daly: lyra
Vassilis Rakopoulos: electro-classical guitar
Vangelis Zografos: double bass
Angelos Polychronou: drums
Music: Natalia Kotsani