Page 52 - 2BOARD 33
P. 52
old & new
The ancient crown
it is a privilege each day to see from your balcony the rock of acropolis rising before you with
the parthenon sitting atop like a crown... | einai προνομιο να βλεπεισ καθημερινα απο το μπαλκονι
σου το βραχο τησ ακροπολησ na προβαλλει και πανω του, σαν στεμμα, να στεκει ο παρθενωνασ...
Τo see its south slope, the Theatre αεrides in the
of Dionysus, the Odeon of Herodes roman agora.
Atticus, the Philopappos Monument οι αερηδεσ τησ
a little further along, and only the ρωμαΪκησ αγορασ.
stretch of a hand between you and
the new Acropolis Museum, the Nicholas Chr. Stampolidis Θέατρο, το Ηρώδειο, το μνημείο του Φιλοπάππου Milan Gonda / Shutterstock.com
pavements empty or full of people and the entrance Professor of πιο πέρα και μια απλωσιά χεριού μονάχα να
to the metro swallowing up commuters, and the Archaeology απέχει από σένα το Νέο Μουσείο Ακρόπολης, τους
same, exit, spitting out the multi-coloured human Director of the πεζόδρομους άδειους ή γεμάτους κόσμο και την
swarm, people who come and go throughout the Museum of Cycladic είσοδο του μετρό να καταπίνει ανθρώπους, κι η
entire spectrum of the day and night, of the seasons, Art | Καθηγητής ίδια, έξοδος, να ξερνά κατά ριπάς, το πολύχρωμο
and of the years. And all this bathed in the Attic Αρχαιολογίας, ανθρώπινο σμήνος, ανθρώπους που έρχονται και
light, or crowned with purple sunsets, like those Διευθυντής Μουσείου φεύγουν σε όλο το φάσμα της ημέρας και της
for which Pindar praised Athens (“O gleaming Κυκλαδικής Τέχνης νύχτας, στο φάσμα των εποχών, των ενιαυτών. Κι
and violet-crowned, glorious Athens, thou art the όλα αυτά λουσμένα στο αττικό φως ή στεφανωμένα
bulwark of Hellas”). And sometimes moonlit nights, με μενεξεδένια δειλινά, όπως αυτά για τα οποία
which I cherished. And when you have the privilege, επαινούσε ο Πίνδαρος την Αθήνα (“Ωτε λιπαραί και
just like Seferis’ King of Asine, to touch with your στέφανοι κλειναί Αθάναι, Ελλάδος έρεισμα”= ώ
fingers the age-old stones of the Ancient Agora, πλούσια και με μενεξεδένιο στεφάνι Αθήνα ένδοξη,
then inevitably the dimensions of space and time εσύ που είσαι της Ελλάδας το στήριγμα).
intersect before you, as long as you have eyes to Κι άλλοτε νύχτες με φεγγάρι που μ’ άρεσαν.
see – not simply look – and ears to listen to the
memory that surges over you. However, for me,
what is even more moving is the third dimension:
the people of this city, those born and bred here,
those living here or residing temporarily, the
foreigners, then and now... For the marvels of this
culture – ancient and contemporary – are fashioned
by human hand, by human imagination and thought,
by human will, even if all these things were driven
by a divine mania, creativity or intoxication... For
in this city centre, of Athens, the familiarity of the
citizen – Greek or foreign – with the past, is a loving
relationship. And if the pace of daily life and the
stress of survival encumber people’s footsteps,
it would be useful for one to consider in a flash,
albeit fleetingly, that the distance separating the
steps is very often not even spatially remote. We
are just 80 grandfathers from Classical Athens and
the footsteps of those who came before us. They
are as familiar as our own, and sometimes may be
separated only by the thickness of the paving stones
or of the asphalt road surface...
...Να βλέπεις τη νότια κλιτύ της, το Διονυσιακό
CONTINUED ON PAGE 222
52
The ancient crown
it is a privilege each day to see from your balcony the rock of acropolis rising before you with
the parthenon sitting atop like a crown... | einai προνομιο να βλεπεισ καθημερινα απο το μπαλκονι
σου το βραχο τησ ακροπολησ na προβαλλει και πανω του, σαν στεμμα, να στεκει ο παρθενωνασ...
Τo see its south slope, the Theatre αεrides in the
of Dionysus, the Odeon of Herodes roman agora.
Atticus, the Philopappos Monument οι αερηδεσ τησ
a little further along, and only the ρωμαΪκησ αγορασ.
stretch of a hand between you and
the new Acropolis Museum, the Nicholas Chr. Stampolidis Θέατρο, το Ηρώδειο, το μνημείο του Φιλοπάππου Milan Gonda / Shutterstock.com
pavements empty or full of people and the entrance Professor of πιο πέρα και μια απλωσιά χεριού μονάχα να
to the metro swallowing up commuters, and the Archaeology απέχει από σένα το Νέο Μουσείο Ακρόπολης, τους
same, exit, spitting out the multi-coloured human Director of the πεζόδρομους άδειους ή γεμάτους κόσμο και την
swarm, people who come and go throughout the Museum of Cycladic είσοδο του μετρό να καταπίνει ανθρώπους, κι η
entire spectrum of the day and night, of the seasons, Art | Καθηγητής ίδια, έξοδος, να ξερνά κατά ριπάς, το πολύχρωμο
and of the years. And all this bathed in the Attic Αρχαιολογίας, ανθρώπινο σμήνος, ανθρώπους που έρχονται και
light, or crowned with purple sunsets, like those Διευθυντής Μουσείου φεύγουν σε όλο το φάσμα της ημέρας και της
for which Pindar praised Athens (“O gleaming Κυκλαδικής Τέχνης νύχτας, στο φάσμα των εποχών, των ενιαυτών. Κι
and violet-crowned, glorious Athens, thou art the όλα αυτά λουσμένα στο αττικό φως ή στεφανωμένα
bulwark of Hellas”). And sometimes moonlit nights, με μενεξεδένια δειλινά, όπως αυτά για τα οποία
which I cherished. And when you have the privilege, επαινούσε ο Πίνδαρος την Αθήνα (“Ωτε λιπαραί και
just like Seferis’ King of Asine, to touch with your στέφανοι κλειναί Αθάναι, Ελλάδος έρεισμα”= ώ
fingers the age-old stones of the Ancient Agora, πλούσια και με μενεξεδένιο στεφάνι Αθήνα ένδοξη,
then inevitably the dimensions of space and time εσύ που είσαι της Ελλάδας το στήριγμα).
intersect before you, as long as you have eyes to Κι άλλοτε νύχτες με φεγγάρι που μ’ άρεσαν.
see – not simply look – and ears to listen to the
memory that surges over you. However, for me,
what is even more moving is the third dimension:
the people of this city, those born and bred here,
those living here or residing temporarily, the
foreigners, then and now... For the marvels of this
culture – ancient and contemporary – are fashioned
by human hand, by human imagination and thought,
by human will, even if all these things were driven
by a divine mania, creativity or intoxication... For
in this city centre, of Athens, the familiarity of the
citizen – Greek or foreign – with the past, is a loving
relationship. And if the pace of daily life and the
stress of survival encumber people’s footsteps,
it would be useful for one to consider in a flash,
albeit fleetingly, that the distance separating the
steps is very often not even spatially remote. We
are just 80 grandfathers from Classical Athens and
the footsteps of those who came before us. They
are as familiar as our own, and sometimes may be
separated only by the thickness of the paving stones
or of the asphalt road surface...
...Να βλέπεις τη νότια κλιτύ της, το Διονυσιακό
CONTINUED ON PAGE 222
52
