Η μπαλάντα του κυρ Μέντιου [I mpalanta tou kyr-Mentiou] [English translation]

These shabby legs won’t bend

and ache the darned

hobble once and hobble twice

through life’s misery.

Daylong toil, ruffian toil!

everyone beating: masters, slaves;

everyone: slaves, master;

and left me starving,

and left me starving.

Up the village, down the village

uphill, downhill

with heat and rain

till lassitude overflowed the soul.

Twenty years old burro

I’ve carried a whole pit

and built, on the entryway,

the village’s church,

the village’s church.

[Refrain]

Giddyap victim, giddyap sucker

giddyap eternal symbol!

Forthwith you waken

the world will flip over,

the world will flip over.

And paired with the ox

-different stature and different gait-

I ploughed in ravines

the master’s acres.

And during war all in all

I carried machine guns

for populaces to get killed

for the master’s food,

for the master’s food.

[Refrain]…

Behold, the others have set about

and the creation has turned red

and another sun has risen

in another sea another land

[Refrain]…

The whole poem as written by K. Varnalis

These shabby legs won’t bend

and ache the darned

hobble once and hobble twice

through life’s misery.

Daylong toil, ruffian toil!

everyone beating: masters, slaves;

everyone: slaves, master

and left me starving.

The children, the good children,

competed in childhood,

with stones at the underbelly

fistfuls of flies at the bollocks!

Up the village, down the village

uphill, downhill

with heat and rain

till lassitude overflowed the soul.

Twenty years old burro

I’ve carried a whole pit

and built, on the entryway,

the village’s church.

And paired with the ox

-different stature and different gait-

I ploughed in ravines

the master’s acres.

And during war all in all

I carried machine guns

for populaces to get killed

for the master’s food.

And for this rascal

I carried the bride

and her dowry a mountain,

her honour sky-reaching!

But me, to a peg

they tied me during May

in the bare field

to bray, to lament.

And the priest with his belly

took me for his work

and spoke to me waggling:

― “Christ rode you!

Work to replete

the whole Homeland and the Few.

Don’t ask how or why,

seek the virtue!”

― “I can’t bear it! I’ll fall down!”

― “Be chagrined! The forefathers be chagrined!”

― “I’m nauseous!... I’m hungry!...”

― “Hush! You’ll eat in heaven!”

And I thought: when one day

old age gets the upper hand

I’ll too rest

the God’s jument!

No beating! No packing!

They’ll give me a corner,

some drink and hay,

pension for so many years!

And when a good night

I kick the bucket

and breathe my last

(a puff! that’s life)

may my soul rush

in Abram’s(Abraham) warm embrace,

his white, strawish

beard to kiss!...

I grew old and as I was of no use

and was a rumbling rotter,

they threw me away

for the beasts to eat me.

I grovelled my ass off and found

Saint Francis in the cave:

― “Hail true light

and protector of animals!

Save old mr Menti

from Master’s injustice

you who taught mr wolf

to become a lamb!

The brutal master make,

make him human out of a wolf!...”

But with this talk

he shut door and ear on me.

Then a black snake,

sticks out its' forked tongue

behind the brushwood

and judders it wittily:

― “Jackasses and plebes

prey for light to heavens,

but gods and foul fiends

are not there rather than here.

If it’s justice you pant, my old fruit,

with the justice of war

you’ll find it. Whoever desires

freedom, takes a sword.

Don’t strike your brother –

but your master the earless!

And to (the products of) your own sweat

you be the master.

Giddy up victim, giddy up sucker

giddy up eternal symbol!

If you wake up all at once

the world will flip over,

Behold! The others have set about

and the creation has turned red

and another sun has risen

over another sea, another land

• Artist:Nikos Xilouris