Anna Griva (Athens, 1985) studied Philology in Athens and History of Literature in Rome. She has a PhD on Italian Renaissance Literature. She has published six poetry collections. The collection entitled Demons (Melani, 2020) was honored with an Award by the Academy of Athens. She has also published a collection of short stories (The Animal Gods, Kichli, 2021) and two historical novels (The Greek slave, Melani, 2022; Exiled Queens, Melani, 2021). Her poems and short stories have been translated into many languages, in magazines, anthologies and standalone volumes. She translates Italian literature, with an emphasis on female renaissance poetry. Her translation of the poems of Laura Battiferra was honored in 2020 by the Italian Institute of Athens. She has published a study on the Platonic Parmenides and a monograph on the Sapphic poetry. She teaches Italian Literature at the Hellenic Open University and Creative Writing at the University of Athens.
Personal website: www.epistemeacademy.org/annagriva
Seabirds bees
ravens and bats
winged ants and ugly ducklings
please nest in the poems
pull high up us the wingless ones
buried deeply we are
in our soul’s foundations
thus did we secure our bodies.
SMALL CEREMONIES
Within the curtains
oscillates the wind
I follow its path
soundless as our breath
I bedew with mint the gunpowder
and with a shooting star the eaglets
I bedew with dawn the worms
and with lemon the dead
a girl is begging me
to sever her from the ankles
she wants to leave for the mountains
a towering rebel
hiding in her tresses
flares and bonbons
for the unruly pine needles
and the strayed she-wolf
beauty – she told me – can’t bear
being always a garden.
From the book So Are the Birds (2015),
Translated from the Greek by Yannis Goumas ©
3000 B.C.
A hunter’s amulet
A bear small white made of stone.
You fastened it onto your spear
or hung it around your neck
while roaming through the forest.
Now behind glass
with all the other talismans:
broken bones
bronze birds
beast’s teeth.
A case full of your prayers.
I am trying to find you
to get to know your world
but I am unprotected.
Exposed.
Oh Hunter of the other shore!
You be my amulet
fashion a wise cave out of my insides
paint me
swindle me
turn me into a chimera
a crazy man’s apparition
a mythical ocean’s wave
all those ephemeral
elusive things
that last through the centuries.
7th century B.C.
Woman’s tomb
Empty sarcophagus
no inscription
only a few beads
shiny blue
with leafy green
and a small mother of pearl blossom
part of a lost pair of earrings
Looking at that blossom
I felt a thirst
engulf my insides
and then a garden in full bloom
spring branches
songs as cymbals of festivity
and her hair dancing
her hair
which was a dream to watch
as it billowed
into immortal Beauty.
1321
Dante Alighieri’s death in exile
He could hear neither voices
nor footsteps
the market outside his door
seemed to have fallen silent
only the massive wave
reached his ears
the one that spread
and engulfed him
into the dark deep
that is when he saw
a colorful whirlpool
Florence in spring colours
poppies and bees
collecting nectar
and himself as a child
laying on the grass
traces of hell were absent
traces of Beatrice’s sent were absent
the only thing present
a restlessness
for all that becomes matter
yet always remains evasive.
1824
A silent revolution
Lucrezia Borgia
Never set foot on Greek soil.
But three hundred years later
Byron a pilgrim at her grave
stole a strand of her hair
as a talisman.
From then on he would
walk beside her and talk to her:
“Oh! Bestow me your memories
of the woman’s ancient oracle
Oh! Bestow me the beauty
to make my blood flow
as sand
a fruit of this earth”.
That final night
he grasped the strand tightly
and all the immortal girls
passed before his eyes
as the revolution raged on
in the silent homes
of stars.
From the book Demons (2020),
Translated from the Greek by Erophile Josephine Papadogia ©
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Poetry in this post: © Anna Griva
Published with the permission of Anna Griva