With faint whispers, in the light in the twilight
quietly I walked the world
away from the screams that hurt me
but now see, in the silence, how much I share
like sweet music is playing and I feel ready
to go out on my familiar paths
like the child who wanders and is forgotten
all day laughing, playing.
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Whispering in the light, in the twilight
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Description
Author Biography
Dimitris Papakonstantinou was born and raised in Larissa. He studied at the Department of Philosophy-Pedagogy and Psychology of the Faculty of Philosophy of the National and Kapodistrian University. Today he lives in Kozani with his wife and two daughters and works as a professor of M.E.
He made his debut with the poetry collection "Mikri Periginità" published in Thessaloniki in 1996, by the publications of "Neas Poreias" and under the editorship of the late Mr. Telemachos Alaveras. Presentation and review of this collection published by professor and poet Mr. P.V. Easter in "Nea Hestia" (issue 1683/15-8-1997). Poems by Dimitris Papakonstantinou have been published from time to time in the magazine "Nea Porea".
Awards:
- 5st Prize in the 2016th Panhellenic Literary Competition of the Spiritual Society of Limassol XNUMX for the poem "A-truth".
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| Weight | 0.5 kg |
|---|---|
| Writer | |
| Pages | 48 |
| Size | 16x23cm |
| Publisher | Source Publications |
Olympia Tsikardani, philologist. -
A collection that reminds of Dimoula's "whispered hint" and is read with the mind and thought. A personal space, populated by emotions, feelings, experiences and experiences that lead us to thoughts about man and his destiny, with a scope that transforms the personal into the universal. In my opinion, the best poem in the collection is "A Little Big Man". Have a good trip.
George Deliopoulos, Fractal -
We all have lost years […]
Twenty wasted years are always needed for an ambitious present.
(Titus Patrikios, Lost Years)
Twenty years - but by no means wasted - have passed since Dimitris Papakonstantinou's first poetry collection, "Mikri Periegii" published by Nea Porea, under the direction of the late Telemachos Alaveras. After this period of his voluntary silence and absence from the poetic scene, the poet returns with his second poetry collection from Pigi publications, with the title "Whispering in the light, in the erebos".
Indirectly, in the title, Dimitris Papakonstantinou characterizes his poems as whispers. The whisper, that low-pitched voice, is his poetic language. Through his whispers he entrusts us with his personal moments, joys, losses and sorrows, which marked him as a natural and poetic subject. At the same time, the whisper is suggestive of a humility with which the poems in the collection and the poet behind the lyrics peruse the world. As he very characteristically states in the poem "Into silence":
With faint whispers, in the light in the twilight
I walked the world quietly
What one discerns upon first reading and reciting the poems of Dimitris Papakonstantinou is an internal rhythm, dictated by scattered or continuous iambic lines, which takes you by the hand with the first lines and takes you on a journey through the meaning and atmosphere of the poem until end. The poems, although free verse, are read and recited effortlessly, without the flow of speech stumbling at any point. This element is a conquest of the poet through a long process of maturation of his poetic expression. It is about,
therefore, for a lyrical poetic language, rich in expressive means (similes, metaphors) and with a particularly evocative imagery, as in "Summer Drunkenness".
In the plain that exulted life as far as the sea
It rained drop by drop
And the festive golden sun dangled
From the clouds where the wind travels.
Other poems seem as if they were written in one breath, as if "the word came by itself", while others seem more worked, the fruit of a long encounter between the poet and the verse, as if "poetry stubbornly refused". Some poems tell a story or a fairy tale like the extremely interesting and timely "A Little-Big Man", while in others you feel that the poet is capturing an image, a scene or an emotion with his lines, as in his well-crafted haiku. The haikus of Dimitris Papakonstantinou are an emotional confession with images of both nature and the modern urban landscape, while they are presented with a welcome innovation, not completely autonomous but in common groups with a general title.
Yellow leaves
in the wind they danced
as you passed by.
In this collection the poet observes and records, looking through a double pane of glass, one half bright and the other half dark, half in light and the other half in darkness. If we wanted to group the poems thematically, we would say that the focal points of his poetic reflection are three: the world around him, his beloved Others and finally his own self.
Observing the world around him, he talks about the wild nature of people, about the horror and depreciation of human life, about the monotonous routine of everyday life, about his own complicity and regret. His poetry, however, does not move only on a general, abstract and purely contemplative level. He also talks about today, he touches on contemporary problems, such as terrorism and the refugee issue in the poems "Terror" and "Central bulletin". However, observing the world around him, his poetic gaze does not stop at the dark places; he simultaneously excavates hope in lost innocence, in childhood, in dreams and in the hidden "spring under the eyelids of the dreamers".
In the poetry of Dimitris Papakonstantinou, companionship, romance and love are dominant values. The beloved Other is omnipresent, sometimes as a memory, as a shadow on the walls, having gone and having
leave the shape of his absence strong, while sometimes accompanying his physical presence, as a tangible entity.
Give me your hand and let's go down the stairs
Life is much loved at noon
(In the drunkenness of summer)
With the blur of separation, with the blue of love
your wet sweet eyes would be nice.
(that would be nice)
The poet, reflecting and talking about the world and his loved ones, ends up examining himself in the mirror as a spectator of a work. In many places his poetic subject is intertwined and identified with the world that surrounds him, with his beloved persons and places. All these are parts of his being, just as his being is a part of the world and his loved ones.
We washed with sweat the cloths of […]
We didn't see if it was poor.
A piece was from our very body
or rather, our body was part of it
(The House II)
Before we finish, however, there is one outstanding issue to be answered. Finally, where does the poet stand? Where does his poetry belong? In the light or in the dark? I think that the poems in the collection scratch the darkness of the world, in no way hide it or deny it. However, they settle in the light, in the spring that waits after the winter, and end with a clearly stated affirmation of the hidden paradises of life.
And I listened again from the beginning as if I didn't know
the alphabet of joy and love
to make words as magical as music
in heaven the feast night and day.
(And I listened then from the beginning...)