Quot Euclidis discipulos retrojecit Elefuga quasi scopulos eminens et abruptus

I do not believe in ecclesiae, therefore I do not believe in Gods
Yet ecclesiae prepare the sperm of Aristocracy
Pons asinorum, from that point on no fool would pass thus
A flight of wretches an Elegy of fugitives
Of non Άριστοι

What purity game?
Pagan as I am, I lust without shame
lest that innocent purity of children,
purity of monastic seclusion
Some lust is somewhere hidden

Outstanding infallibility
of academic professors
Popes have long bewildered their Αγος

I do not believe in myths or in marketing
nor in Business ethics
If any they would give the surplus profit away

Authentic genius,
Heraldic symbolisms of no significance
9 is the number of wisdom

Mystic as I am, children of Pythagoras
knowledge is esoteric deductions
Music is experienced Knowledge

Axiom is the method, knowledge is the language
Marginal incremental proofs given a set of self evidence trivialities
Of things that are, Induction is a lie waiting
Καὶ τὸ ὅλον τοῦ μέρους μεῖζον

I believe in an iconoclastic God that loves Icons
I believe that the Cosmos is a majestic soup
A bunch of language definitions

Heuristic is the science of the doer
You cannot know things per se
But you can dip your finger in the sauce
Ego sum resurrectio et vita


Mattia Mare







Schemata that describe
the remains of the pagan within the self
love of unexplored areas
mythical entities
fairytales of uncharted eroticism
charlatan quasi theories
of collective memory traces
the molding of experience
in mystical erotic hallucination
leaving the functional self untouched
wandering inhumane monster in awe
in the phobic lust grounds
of Little red riding hood mythic chora
I leave all in I shut violence out
In modern iconolagnic fantasies
Tango dance me
unleash the fabric of my beastly libido
o you manic deity of innocent orgies

Mattia Mare

«Και δε σ’είδα ποτέ δάκρυα να χύσης,
Παρά λίγη στιγμή πριν μ’ατιμήσης»


Lucien Clergue




Day gaze By Nikos Voutsinas

Day gaze
By Nikos Voutsinas

I have nothing to add
In all that was said
In all that rolled scratching the flesh of the stone
In all that with fury was grabbed from its roots
And lived
In all that with its claws incised the starry night
While falling

I have come to expect nothing
I found the eagle-morphic soils lying on the fields
In the shadow of noon with a wheat ear hanging in my mouth
I found the poppies the myrtles and the asphodels
The color that the olive tree dyes against the sea
And Alexandria’s perfumes
sealed in a bronze
Amphora (ink-well)

I have nothing to believe in
I saw a cloud without sky above
Beaten by God like dog, day and night
I saw the wrath rivers of men
Turned into fuel woods in exchange of a piece of bread
I saw Love dropping down its arms
I saw the rustling of the leaves
I saw the tombs

I saw all kinds of transactions

I have nothing to know
I walked among the houses’ yards
Along the wounded citrus trees and the flowers
I shaped and baked the tears for those missing
From every feast
I stood on the ruins of stones and looked back
I ate and drank with all of you

I have nothing to subtract
Neither leaves nor pain
Nor anything

Translated By Strates Fabbros

-στ’ αγνάντι-
Δεν έχω να προσθέσω τίποτα
σ’ ό,τι ειπώθηκε
σ’ ό,τι κύλησε γδέρνοντας τη σάρκα της πέτρας
σ’ ό,τι γραπώθηκε με λύσσα απ’ τις ρίζες του
κι έζησε
σ’ ό,τι χάραξε με τα νύχια του την έναστρη νύχτα


Δεν έχω να περιμένω τίποτα
βρήκα τ’ αετόμορφα χώματα ξαπλωμένα στους αγρούς
μεσημέρια μ’ ένα στάχυ στο στόμα
βρήκα τις παπαρούνες τις μυρτιές και τ’ ασπάλαθα
το χρώμα που ποτίζει η ελιά αντίκρυ απ’ τη θάλασσα
και της Αλεξάνδρειας
τ’ αρώματα
σφραγισμένα καλά μέσα σ’ ένα μπρούτζινο

Δεν έχω να πιστέψω σε τίποτα
είδα ένα σύννεφο χωρίς Ουρανό
να το δέρνει ο Θεός σα σκυλί μέρα-νύχτα
είδα τα οργισμένα ποτάμια των ανθρώπων
να γίνονται κούτσουρα για ένα κομμάτι ψωμί
είδα τον Έρωτα να ρίχνει τα όπλα κατάχαμα
είδα το θρόισμα των φύλλων
είδα τους τάφους

όλων των ειδών τις συναλλαγές

Δεν έχω να γνωρίζω τίποτα
περπάτησα στις αυλές των σπιτιών
με τις πληγωμένες νεραντζιές και τα άνθη
ζύμωσα και φούρνισα δάκρυα για κείνους που έλειπαν
από κάθε γιορτή
στάθηκα στις ρημαγμένες πέτρες και κοίταξα πίσω μου

έφαγα και ήπια
με Όλους σας

Δεν έχω να αφαιρέσω τίποτα
ούτε φύλλα ούτε πόνο
ούτε τίποτα

Νίκος Βουτσινάς


«And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.» By Mattia Marre

Death is the up to date undeniable ending fact of life for a time as million /
even if we cure age death by science/
death shall ultimately have some sort of dominion /
by trauma or accidents /
Lest we make it and Identity is directed to our full will in death of oblivion /
Let’ s make life instead a fact worthy of death in truest of sense./

«And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.»

Epilogue verse in «Death Be Not Proud» Poem (1610) by 
John Donne