Τhe Ιncident Dissolved

Don't forget, commemorate our poet

Vladimir Mayakovsky.

Forty six years ago he left away from us

How Mayakovsky is related?

In the factory, an old comrade from Macedonia used to talk about him

Sometimes on Sundays, as we were drinking raki from homeland 

and singing songs about migration and resistance

He had lived i Russia for many years

And he used to take the book with Vladimir's poems

As he was calling him

And he was reading to us

And he was bringing in mind the other Vladimir

And he was in tears sometimes

But i think i said enough

Farewell once again

(The October's poem, Y. Ritsos, 1976)

Vladimir V. Mayakovsky. July 19, 1893 - April 14, 1930 

On 14th of April 1930, at the age of 36, Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky 

committed suicide by shooting himself through the heart. In his death note we can read among other:

And so they say - "the incident dissolved"

 the love boat smashed up 

on the dreary routine.

I'm through with life 

and [we] should absolve

 from mutual hurts, afflictions and spleen.

The Moral of Life!

The first night they are approaching 

and they steal a flower from our garden

and we say nothing.

The second day they are not hiding anymore,

they are walking among the flowers

they kill our dog

and we say nothing.

And all of a sudden it comes a day 

- the most clear of all- 

when they get easily into our home

they steal our moon

because they know our fear 

which chokes the voice in our throat

And because we said nothing

we can't do anything anymore!

V. Mayakovsky "Freedom of expression"

Vladimir Mayakovsky, 19.7.1893 - 14.4.1930

Τη πρώτη νύχτα πλησιάζουνε

και κλέβουν ένα λουλούδι

από τον κήπο μας

και δε λέμε τίποτα.

Τη δεύτερη νύχτα δε κρύβονται πλέον

περπατούνε στα λουλούδια,

σκοτώνουν το σκυλί μας

και δε λέμε τίποτα.

Ώσπου μια μέρα

-την πιο διάφανη απ’ όλες-

μπαίνουν άνετα στο σπίτι μας

ληστεύουν το φεγγάρι μας

γιατί ξέρουνε το φόβο μας

που πνίγει τη φωνή στο λαιμό μας.

Κι επειδή δεν είπαμε τίποτα

πλέον δε μπορούμε να πούμε τίποτα

Β. Μαγιακόφσκι "Ελευθερία Έκφρασης"

The Moral of Life: No Compromise!

Det som engang var...

Fattigmannen, 1894 - 96

Pesta farer landet rundt, | The Plague Hag is sweeping the land

i by og bygd, hus og hytte. | town and villages, house and cottages.

Hun raker i hundrevis, | She brooms hundreds,

soper i tusenvis. | sweeps thousands.

Skaadden vælter i vældige flak, | The fog is coming

over fjord og fjeld. | over the fjords and mountains.

Lægger sig dødningeklam | Clammy like a ghost

over alt. | everywhere.

Hun farer landet rundt, 1894-96

Illustrasjon til Svartedauen, 1894-96

Pesta med sin sopelime skaaner ingen. | The Plague Hag with her broom spares no one.

Soper den som træt af livet, | Sweeps the one who is tired of life,

knækt af kummer og af smærte, ber om døden. | broken of pain, begs for death.

Soper den som ber om livet, | Sweeps the one asking for life,

den som først i rædselen i sit sidste øieblik, | the one who in the horror of his last moment,

hykler for et gudebilled. | hypocrites for a idol.

Soper alle uden skaansel, ind i døden. | Sweeps them all, into death.

Illustrasjon til Svartedauen, 1894-96

Høstkveld, 1894-96

Pesta drager. | The Plague Hag is leaving
Stille, stille | Quiet, quiet
vil jeg fare. | I will go.

Sungen er sidste tone | Sung is the last tone
af en gravsang. | of a grave song.

In remembrance of Norwegian artist Theodor Kittelsen, who died on this day 100 years ago...