ANDROULLA SHATI THE POET, NOTABLE SONGSTRESS AND A PEACE UNIFYING FIGHTER FROM CYPRUS.

ANDROULLA SHATI (Dali, Lefkosia, Cyprus)

She studied English language and literature at the University of London and on her return to Cyprus started teaching English. She is a mother of 4 sons and six grandsons.. For the past 12 years she is responsible for the Public Relations of a textile recycling organisation. She has been involved in bicommunal work for over 20 years. Greek and Turkish speaking Cypriots working together for peace and the reunification of our common motherland.

She writes poetry in blank verse in Greek as well as the Greek Cypriot dialect in the form of 15 syllable rhyming couplets and occasionally in English. She also sings professionally in both Greek and the Cypriot dialect.

Her poetry has been published in anthologies such as SALT BOUNDARIES and other anthologies, newspapers and magazines. Her poems have been translated to 7 languages. Her first personal poetry book in three languages came out in Istanbul in September 2017 and was published by Artshop. A new poetry book in Greek and the Greek Cypriot dialect was published in September 2019.

POEMS BY ANDROULLA SHATI

Άφησε με να 'ρθω μαζί σου

Άφησε με να 'ρθω μαζί σου
να τινάζω την σκόνη των καιρών
από τα βλέφαρα σου.
Δεν έμαθα να προσκυνώ
τεμενάδες δεν ξέρω να κάνω.
Υποκλίνομαι μόνο
στο μεγαλείο που λέγεται άνθρωπος.
Άσε με να 'ρθω μαζί σου
Να σου θυμίζω την άνοιξη,
να σου βάλω την γεύση
του ταξιδιού στα χείλη.
Άσε με να σε ξαναμάθω να αρμενίζεις
στα μενεξεδιά απογεύματα,
στους ματωμένους ήλιους,
στα χρυσάφια της ακρογιαλιάς.
Άφησε με να 'ρθω μαζί σου
να ψαλιδίσω την ουρά σου
πριν περάσεις τις συμπληγάδες.
Όταν θα ξετυλίγεις τον μίτο
ψάχνοντας να ξεκάνεις το θεριό
που είναι μέσα σου
θέλω να είμαι εκεί.
Το κορμί θα κάμω ράγες,
την ψυχή μου φάρο
να μας δείχνει τον δρόμο.
Άσε με να σε πάρω από το χέρι
Άσε με να ‘ρθω μαζί σου
Μέσα στο τάσι της ζωής
φύλαξα δύο στάλες
αθάνατο νερό για μας
Άσε με να ‘ρθω μαζί σου.
Μετά από όλα αυτά
να έρθω μαζί σου;
Δίχως σου δεν μπορώ.
Έγινες λόγος ύπαρξης.
Έγινα εσύ.
Εσύ;
Άφησε με να ‘ρθω μαζί σου.

LET ME COME WITH YOU

Let me come with you
I will toss the dust of time
from your eyelids
I have not learned to worship
I do not know how to bow
I curtsy with respect to the greatness
called human kind.
Let me come with you to remind you of Spring
I want to put the taste of travelling on your lips
I have woven a sail for you
Let me teach you again to sail
in the crimson afternoons,
in the bloody sunsets
in the beaches of gold.
Let me come with you
so as to clip the edge of your tail
as you go through the Simbligades rocks.
I want to be there as you unwind the thread
trying to exterminate the beast
which is inside you.
I will turn my body to rails
I will turn my soul into a lighthouse
to show us the way.
Let me take you by the hand
Let me come with you
In the bowl (tas) of life
I have saved two drops of immortal water for us.
Let me come with you.
After all this shall I come with you?
Without you I cannot be
You are my reason for being
I have become you
You?
Let me come with you




In Dali
3/6/2022

ΓΡΑΨΕ
ΓΡΑΨΕ ΓΙΑ ΤΗΝ ΣΥΡΙΑ

Μην μιλάς
Γράψε
Μην με κοιτάς
Γράψε
Μην πέσεις σε περισυλλογή
Μην σε καταβάλει η λύπη
Γράψε
Σήμερα έβαλα πλώρη για το μέλλον
Σήμερα πλέω στο πέλαγος της φρίκης
Μήν με κλαις
Γράψε
Άφησα πίσω μου μια στήλη από άλας
Πίσω μου καίνε τα σπίτια μας
Στάχτη τα δέντρα
Όνειρα χωρίς πόδια
με ένα σοσύβιο πορτοκαλί
που μεταποιούν κάποιοι σε τσάντες
Όσοι απο μας επέπλευσαν,
όσοι επιβίωσαν από το αδηφάγο πέλαγος
είμαστε εδώ και σου λέμε
Γράψε
Ένας κόσμος κουφός,
Ένας κόσμος τυφλός
εσένα περιμένει
Γράψε
Με μια σπαθιά χάραξε μιαν ελπίδα.
Κάπου, μιά χώρα, μιά γη εμέ περιμένει.
Μια αγγαλιά θα μου δώσει πνοή.
Κι αν έγραψες για μένα,
θα ´σαι και συ εκεί.
Γράψε
Γράψε για την ειρήνη
που άφησε την τελευταία της πνοή
σε μιαν έκρηξη αερίων.
Γράψε
Ο λόγος δεν έχει γλώσσα
Ο λόγος δεν γνωρίζει σύνορα
Αέρας και ταξιδεύει.
Βγαίνει στους δρόμους.
Κάνει αγώνες.
Γράψε
Θέλω κάτι να πω
Γράψε

29/4/2017
Εν Ρώμη

WRITE ABOUT SYRIA

Don't talk
Write
Don't look at me
Write
Don't become pensive
Don't let sorrow pull you down
Write
Today I set sail for the future
Today I sail in the sea of horror
Don't cry about me
Write
I left a pillar of salt behind me
Behind me our houses are on fire
Trees have turned to ashes
Dreams without legs
with an orange life vest
which someone
will turn into a handbag.
Those of us who surfaced
Those of us who survived
the omnivorous sea,
we are here to tell you
Write
A world that is deaf
A world that is blind
Is waiting from you
Write
With a stroke of your sword carve a hope.
Somewhere there is a country,
a land waiting for me
A hug will give me breath
and if you have written about me,
you will be there too.
Write
Write about peace
that left its last breath
in an explosion of gas
Write
The word has no language
The word knows no boundaries
Like the air, it travels
It goes out into the streets
It gets involved in struggles
Write
I want to say something
Write

THREADS

The day Penelope stopped weaving
her threads poured out .
Roads were closed,
windows were blocked
and the sky nowhere to be seen.
Night fell.
They rushed down and arrived at the harbour.
Birds took the end of the threads
and pulled them up to the rigs.
The sailors turned them into messages
and sent them to the edges of the world.
They went through the Sympligades.
They took up a dance with the waves.
They tied themselves to the mast.
They went crazy listening to the voices of the Syrenes.
They confronted Scylla and Harivde.
They ate lotus fruit.
They chewed acorns in the garden of Kirki.
They got drank on the wine left over
When Polyphimos fell asleep.
They got to the walls of Troy.
Which Helen, which Paris?
They swam in rivers of tears.
They were scorched in the fires.
The Trojan horse was returned to the Greeks
due to a fault in the wheels.
The Trojan women were nowhere.
They took to the roads of slavery and disgrace.
Not a soul anywhere.
They lost heart.
Where did the one, our lady was waiting for, disappear?
She weaved and waited.
The threads climbed down the walls, black and in rags.
They became tangled,
turned into ropes and dived into the sea.
They were cleansed.
They took a return boat.
They thought of new weaving patterns
for the textiles and returned.
What did they find?
The suitors dead.
The dog had died.
It welcomed its owner and left.
The tables were laid, celebrations and festivities.
And Penelope? As beautiful as ever.
As if twenty years had not gone by.
Ulyses aged prematurely, a tired but wise man.
Their son Orestis?
A student at the University of the Aegean.
Marine biology.
That night there was an earthquake.
Flames jumped out of the windows.
The sturdy bed could not take
all the passion it was carrying.
It collapsed to the floor.
The servants looked at each other cunningly
when they heard the thump.
Life started weaving their days
as if nothing had happened.
They invested the gold
which they had grabbed from Priam’s palace
along with Hecuba’s jewellery.
They wanted to have something for their old age.
Also to support their son when he finishes his studies.
They have their holiday home too at Mati.
They also have their son’s godfather
in a position in the civil service
He will fix his godson with a job.
The threads are in their basket waiting
when their lady will decide to start the new textile design.

In Tamsui, Taiwan
25/9/2018

VOCABULARY

Penelope was the wife of king Ulyses/ Odysseas of Ithaki
Sympligades were two stones opening and closing
Syrenes were bird women who sang sweetly and lured sailors to their death
Scylla and Harivde were monsters
Kirki was a witch. She changed Ulyses’ men into pigs and they ate acorns
Polyphemos was a one eyed giant son of the Sun
Helen was the wife of king Menelaos .Paris stole her and took her to Troy, his city.
The Trojan horse was made of wood, hollow inside where Greek soldiers were hiding. At night they got out and burned Troy. Priam was the king of Troy
Hecuba was the queen of Troy.
Suitors were prospective husbands waiting for Penelope to finish weaving her textile so she would decide who to marry. She weaved by day and undid it at night so it never finished. She believed her husband Odysseas/Ulyses would come back.
Mati is a place by the sea which burned down in the summer of 2018. Many people died because most homes had been built without permission and had no easy access to the sea so people could escape the fire.