Sometimes I remember to be part of the 'asocial network ", and so, tonight, with his friend and his Sussi' Εκβλόγγηθι Σεαυτόν I dedicate myself to another friend, the poet greek sailor Nikos Kavvadias . From cat, sailor and quite well, I could not remain indifferent to the thing that follows, and I would like to introduce the words of the translator, Gian Piero Head:
"The Biblical condemnation of the work fell on humans and animals also rubbed innocent: the poor donkeys, horses, cattle, dogs, camels, llamas and so on. One does not think, however, it has touched even the cats to work. Yet the ships were being recruited to reduce the stock colonies of mice. Once on board landed no more. In Venice there had to be by law, with punishment for the captain at fault. The merchant of iron cats contracted an occupational disease due to rusty dust, which is called in Greece Lamarina ; and "Lamarina" means "plate". The pain of the sheet, then. I do not know the equivalent in Italian and I'd like to know. The modern Greek poet Nikos Kavvadias (1910 - 1975), which ships spent most of his life, as a cabin boy, a sailor and radio operator, I dedicate this poem to his touching gatte dei mercantili. A un certo punto impazzivano e dovevano essere pietosamente gettate a mare. Un dei più grandi dolori per i marinai, che adoravano le gatte imbarcate in loro compagnia."
"The Biblical condemnation of the work fell on humans and animals also rubbed innocent: the poor donkeys, horses, cattle, dogs, camels, llamas and so on. One does not think, however, it has touched even the cats to work. Yet the ships were being recruited to reduce the stock colonies of mice. Once on board landed no more. In Venice there had to be by law, with punishment for the captain at fault. The merchant of iron cats contracted an occupational disease due to rusty dust, which is called in Greece Lamarina ; and "Lamarina" means "plate". The pain of the sheet, then. I do not know the equivalent in Italian and I'd like to know. The modern Greek poet Nikos Kavvadias (1910 - 1975), which ships spent most of his life, as a cabin boy, a sailor and radio operator, I dedicate this poem to his touching gatte dei mercantili. A un certo punto impazzivano e dovevano essere pietosamente gettate a mare. Un dei più grandi dolori per i marinai, che adoravano le gatte imbarcate in loro compagnia."
LE GATTE DEI MERCANTILI
I marinai dei mercantili sempre allevano una gatta
e la adorano, senza sapere il perché,
e lei, quando stanchi smontano di guardia,
superba correrà a strofinarsi alle loro gambe.
Le sere, quando il mare picchia forte sulle lamiere,
e, come fosse in guerra, vuol break the bow and bolts
reigns a heavy silence and torment,
for them she is a sweet company of a woman.
Always put them around his neck a collar of copper,
for amulet against the evil ugly sheet,
but they never manage, too bad!,
to preserve it in this way from the Black Death .
Because already his eyes were watery and thrilled
and so against his will attract them and the rusty iron,
crazy meowing and looking at a fixed point
and sailors who went dark and silent tears.
A little 'a sailor before he dies,
- that his life has seen the most terrible things -
caressing her looks into her eyes suddenly
and immediately throws it in' angry sea.
Then the sailors, which so often gives his heart
rimpiattano you forward and you squeeze the heart,
filled with a strange bitterness that will bite, as when they lose
a woman hot and expensive.
ΟΙ ΓΑΤΕΣ ΤΩΝ TRUCK
Sailors lorries always feed a cat,
who worship without knowing why,
her, as from the shift to school tired,
proud to run away would be sanded.
the evenings, when the sea hits the plate,
and strength to fight with broken nails,
Joined in Bow the heavy silence that tortures,
is for them like a sweet female companion.
She always have a neck bakirenia round,
for the iron poor αρρώστια φυλαχτό,
χωρίς όμως, αλίμονο, ποτέ να κατορθώνουν
να την φυλάξουν απ' το μαύρο θάνατο μ' αυτό.
Γιατί είναι τ' άγρια τα μάτια της υγρά κι ηλεκτρισμένα
so unwillingly in the black iron pulls,
crazy and screaming at one point looking
bringing tears to the dark and silent sailors.
Soon πριν από το θάνατον από τους ναύτες ένας,
- αυτός όπου είδε πράματα στη ζήση του φριχτά -
χαϊδεύοντας την, μια στιγμή στα μάτια την κοιτάζει
κι ύστερα μες στη the wild sea of \u200b\u200bflying.
And then the sailors, who very rarely lyga their heart,
going to bow to hide the heart tight,
full of a strange πικρία που όλο δαγκώνει,
σαν όταν χάνουνε θερμή γυναίκα αγαπητή.
e la adorano, senza sapere il perché,
e lei, quando stanchi smontano di guardia,
superba correrà a strofinarsi alle loro gambe.
Le sere, quando il mare picchia forte sulle lamiere,
e, come fosse in guerra, vuol break the bow and bolts
reigns a heavy silence and torment,
for them she is a sweet company of a woman.
Always put them around his neck a collar of copper,
for amulet against the evil ugly sheet,
but they never manage, too bad!,
to preserve it in this way from the Black Death .
Because already his eyes were watery and thrilled
and so against his will attract them and the rusty iron,
crazy meowing and looking at a fixed point
and sailors who went dark and silent tears.
A little 'a sailor before he dies,
- that his life has seen the most terrible things -
caressing her looks into her eyes suddenly
and immediately throws it in' angry sea.
Then the sailors, which so often gives his heart
rimpiattano you forward and you squeeze the heart,
filled with a strange bitterness that will bite, as when they lose
a woman hot and expensive.
ΟΙ ΓΑΤΕΣ ΤΩΝ TRUCK
Sailors lorries always feed a cat,
who worship without knowing why,
her, as from the shift to school tired,
proud to run away would be sanded.
the evenings, when the sea hits the plate,
and strength to fight with broken nails,
Joined in Bow the heavy silence that tortures,
is for them like a sweet female companion.
She always have a neck bakirenia round,
for the iron poor αρρώστια φυλαχτό,
χωρίς όμως, αλίμονο, ποτέ να κατορθώνουν
να την φυλάξουν απ' το μαύρο θάνατο μ' αυτό.
Γιατί είναι τ' άγρια τα μάτια της υγρά κι ηλεκτρισμένα
so unwillingly in the black iron pulls,
crazy and screaming at one point looking
bringing tears to the dark and silent sailors.
Soon πριν από το θάνατον από τους ναύτες ένας,
- αυτός όπου είδε πράματα στη ζήση του φριχτά -
χαϊδεύοντας την, μια στιγμή στα μάτια την κοιτάζει
κι ύστερα μες στη the wild sea of \u200b\u200bflying.
And then the sailors, who very rarely lyga their heart,
going to bow to hide the heart tight,
full of a strange πικρία που όλο δαγκώνει,
σαν όταν χάνουνε θερμή γυναίκα αγαπητή.
Che dire? Niente, forse ogni cosa sarebbe fuori luogo. C'è stata, a un certo punto, una musica; un gruppo chiamato "Xembarki" ci ha messo delle note sopra; note che vanno a tutte le sorelle che dalle profondità marine consumano sette, settecento, settecentomila vite.
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