ΕΤΑΙΡΙΑ ΕΛΛΗΝΩΝ ΛΟΓΟΤΕΧΝΩΝ - ΑΦΙΕΡΩΜΑ στο ΠΟΛΥΤΕΧΝΕΙΟ

 


                                         

                Γενναδίου 8 και Ακαδημίας -10678 ΑΘΗΝΑ

                                      Τηλ:2103834559 E-mail: eel@otenet.gr 

 

                             Π...Ρ...Ο...Σ...Κ...Λ...Η...Σ...Η

 

                      ΤΡΙΤΗ 15 NOEMΒΡΙΟΥ 2022

 

                                       ΩΡΑ 6:00 μ.μ. 

Η Εταιρία Ελλήνων Λογοτεχνών σας καλεί , Γενναδίου 8 και Ακαδημίας (7ος όροφος), στην αίθουσα Μιχαήλας Αβέρωφ

 

 

                            ΑΦΙΕΡΩΜΑ στο ΠΟΛΥΤΕΧΝΕΙΟ


ΘΕΜΑ: «Τρόποι Καταγραφής του Πολυτεχνείου στην Ελληνική Λογοτεχνία»

Χαιρετίζει:   Κώστας Καρούσος, Πρόεδρος ΕΕΛ.

Ομιλήτριες: Ελένη Καρασαββίδου, Δοκ/φος, Πανεπιστημιακός.

      Νικόλ Λιακοσταύρου, Δημοσιογράφος στην ΄΄Φωνή της Ελλάδος΄΄

                 Ιλεάνα Σακκά, πρώην Συνδικαλίστρια και Ακτιβίστρια.

Διαβάζουν: Αλμπέρτα Τσοπανάκη, Ηθοποιός-Σκηνοθέτης-Συγγραφέας,

Χρυσούλα Γεωργούλα- Οδοντίατρος-μέλος Κινημάτων Αλληλεγγύης-Συγγραφέας.

Η εκδήλωση θα πλαισιωθεί από τραγούδια της εποχής.

Συντονίζει:   Δημήτρης Λαμπρόπουλος, Γεν. Έφορος ΕΕΛ.

 

                                        Για το Δ.Σ.

Ο Πρόεδρος της ΕΕΛ                               Ο Γεν. Γραμματέας της ΕΕΛ

 Κώστας  Καρούσος                                        Γιώργος  Μαρινάκης          




   

ΗΛΙΑΣ ΓΙΑΝΝΑΚΟΠΟΥΛΟΣ "Μικρασιατική Καταστροφή: Μνήμη που πληγώνει… («Την πατρίδαμ’ έχασα…»)"

 «Τόσα φαρμάκια, τόση συμφορά κι εμένα ο νους να γυρίσει θέλει πίσω στα παλιά!».Διδώ  Σωτηρίου, «Ματωμένα χώματα»)

 

Με το τέλος του χρόνου πληθαίνουν οι εκδηλώσεις για τα 100 χρόνια από την Μικρασιατική καταστροφή(☆). Οι τοπικοί σύλλογοι Μικρασιατών και Ποντίων διοργανώνουν ομιλίες και εκθέσεις ως ένα οφειλόμενο «μνημόσυνο» στα θύματα της τραγικής επετείου αλλά και ως μία «ηθική δικαίωση» για τους απογόνους των θυμάτων. Οι απόγονοι των θυμάτων και των προσφύγων αλλά και σύμπας ο ελληνικός λαός επιστρέφει νοερά και ανακαλεί στην μνήμη του τις σκηνές από την προκυμαία του ξεριζωμού, των σφαγών και του θανάτου. Σκηνές που ματώνουν την εθνική μας μνήμη, καταυγάζουν τις ευθύνες και τις ενοχές μας, σκιαγραφούν το μέγεθος της εθνικής καταστροφής και εκθέτουν με τον πιο έντονο τρόπο την ανιστόρητη θεωρία περί «συνωστισμού» των ηττημένων που αναζητούσαν τρόπο διαφυγής και σωτηρίας.

 


Παρακολουθώντας όλες αυτές τις εκδηλώσεις για την εθνική μας τραγωδία εύκολα επισημαίνεις το εθνωφελές έργο των τοπικών συλλόγων αλλά ταυτόχρονα και την ηχηρή απουσία του οργανωμένου κράτους ως διοργανωτή παρόμοιων εκδηλώσεων. Την απουσία αυτή του κράτους θα μπορούσε κάποιος να την αιτιολογήσει και δικαιολογήσει επικαλούμενος ψυχολογικούς και εθνικούς λόγους. Ένα κράτος, δηλαδή, δεν μπορεί και δεν πρέπει να «γιορτάζει» επετείους εθνικών καταστροφών που ματώνουν το «εθνικό φρόνημα» των πολιτών. Από την άλλη πλευρά η απουσία αιτιολογείται κι από το γεγονός ότι τυχόν συμμετοχή του κράτους σε τέτοιες εκδηλώσεις όπου αναζητούνται αίτια και συνέπειες θα έδινε επιχειρήματα στην Τουρκία που καθημερινά απειλεί.

Θα συνιστούσε, δηλαδή, παραδοξότητα και εθνοκτόνα συμπεριφορά αν από το επίσημο κράτος επικυρώνονταν οι ιαχές πολέμου και εθνικής υπερηφάνειας της γειτονικής Τουρκίας. Μία Τουρκία που πανηγυρίζει την νίκη της το 1922 και με βάση – αφετηρία αυτήν την νίκη ειρωνεύεται την σύγχρονη Ελλάδα με θέσεις του τύπου: «Θα έρθουμε νύχτα», «Θα έρθουμε μέρα», «Θα μάς είναι χρήσιμο να γνωρίζουμε κολύμπι». Το μόνο που δεν αποκάλυψαν είναι το μεταφορικό μέσο με το οποίο θα έρθουν.

Αλησμόνητες Πατρίδες

«Άααχ! Άααχ! Άαχ! Πλάσματα της γης! Ποια δύναμη σκότωσε την

ψυχή σας! Ανθρώπινα χαμόγελα που γεννήκατε τρόμος,

μόνο τρόμος και θάνατος».(Διδώ Σωτηρίου, «Ματωμένα χώματα»)

 

Η  Μικρασιατική Καταστροφή και οι εικόνες της στοίχειωσαν για πάντα στην μνήμη μας και ταυτίστηκαν με την μεγαλύτερη εθνική τραγωδία. Δεν είναι μόνον οι χιλιάδες νεκροί, οι άταφοι νεκροί, οι πρόσφυγες και η συνακόλουθη γενοκτονία του ελληνισμού. Την τραγικότητα της καταστροφής την αναδεικνύει το γεγονός της απώλειας της Ιωνίας Γης όταν αναπτύχτηκε ο αρχαιοελληνικός διαφωτισμός που εξακολουθεί μέχρι σήμερα να γονιμοποιεί θετικά τις έννοιες Ελευθερία και Δημοκρατία. Οι πρωτοπόροι της φιλοσοφίας, του ορθολογισμού και του ερευνητικού πνεύματος, όπως ο Θαλής, ο Αναξίμανδρος, ο Αναξιμένης, ο Ξενοφάνης και ο Ηράκλειτος θα νιώθουν ανέστιοι αφού στον τόπο που αναζητούσαν την κοσμοποιό αρχή του σύμπαντος τώρα κυριαρχεί ο φανατισμός και το πολεμοχαρές πνεύμα.

Πολλοί, ίσως, αντιτείνουν πως η πτώση της Πόλης το 1453 και η κατάλυση της βυζαντινής αυτοκρατορίας συνιστά την απόλυτη εθνική τραγωδία. Σίγουρα η πτώση της πόλης σημάδεψε ανεξίτηλα την πορεία του Ελληνισμού. Ωστόσο ο ελληνικός πληθυσμός και πολιτισμός – παρά τις διώξεις και τις ταπεινώσεις – εξακολουθούσε να κατοικεί και να ακμάζει στην Ιωνία γη. Με την Μικρασιατική καταστροφή ο πληθυσμός μειώθηκε δραματικά και γι’ αυτό για καιρό ίσως λανθασμένα κυριάρχησε η πίκρα για τις «χαμένες πατρίδες» που στην μνήμη μας λειτουργούν ως «αλησμόνητες πατρίδες».

 

«Την πατρίδαμ’ έχασα…»

«Την πατρίδαμ’ έχασα έκλαψα και πόνεσα/ λύομαι κι αροθυμώ όι, όι ν ανασπάλω κι επορώ»

Σε όλες τις επετειακές εκδηλώσεις ο παραπάνω θρήνος κυριαρχεί απόλυτα και καταγράφει με τον πιο σπαρακτικό τρόπο το αίσθημα της απώλειας της πατρίδας. Η φωνή του τραγουδιστή και ο ήχος της ποντιακής λύρας συνθέτουν το μέγεθος τόσο της εθνικής τραγωδίας όσο και τον δυσβάσταχτο πόνο εκείνων των ανθρώπων που εκπατρίστηκαν από τον γενέθλιο τόπο. Ίσως θα είναι λίγοι αυτοί που ακούγοντας το παραπάνω τραγούδι να μην συγκινηθούν και να μην νιώσουν ένοχοι γι’ αυτά που έγιναν. Όσα λόγια παρηγορητικά και αν ακουστούν είναι λίγα για να απαλύνουν τον πόνο εκείνων που έχασαν την πατρίδα τους. Ο Σεφέρης κατέγραψε αυτό το αίσθημα με άλλον τρόπο – πρόσφυγας ο ίδιος.

«Όμως τη σκέψη του πρόσφυγα τη σκέψη του αιχμάλωτου τη σκέψη/ του ανθρώπου σαν κατάντησε κι αυτός πραμάτεια/ δοκίμασε να την αλλάξεις, δεν μπορείς»

Ο ξεριζωμός, η προσφυγιά και ο νόστος διαμόρφωσαν την ψυχολογία και την εθνική ταυτότητα κάποιων γενεών που αναπολούν τα παλιά χωρίς ελπίδα για το μέλλον. Ο μόνος τρόπος διαφυγής γι’ αυτούς είναι το τραγούδι και κάποιοι μελοποιημένοι θρήνοι που αιτιολογούν την βαθιά θλίψη τους και ίσως μία αδιέξοδη εθνική απαισιοδοξία.

«Τα σπίτια που είχα μου τα πήραν. Έτυχε/ να ‘ναι τα χρόνια δίσεχτα πόλεμοι, χαλασμοί/ ξενιτεμοί».(Γ. Σεφέρης)

Σε όσους αναζητούν αναλογίες ανάμεσα στις δύο εθνικές τραγωδίες – Πτώση της Πόλης 1453 // Μικρασιατική καταστροφή 1922 – εύκολα θα επισημάνουν ως θεατές ή ακροατές σχετικών εκδηλώσεων στα δύο αυτά γεγονότα μία ουσιώδη διαφορά στον τρόπο με τον οποίο οι ποιητές, οι μουσικοί και ο ανώνυμος λαός θρηνούν.

Την πτώση της πόλης (1453) την συνόδεψαν θρήνοι μουσικοί αλλά ωστόσο δεν έλειψαν και τραγούδια, ποιήματα ή φράσεις του απλού λαού που έδιναν μία ελπίδα, μία εθνική παραμυθία. Δίπλα στους θρήνους για την εθνική τραγωδία υπάρχουν και τα αισιόδοξα μηνύματα που απαλύνουν την ψυχή και συντηρούν την ελπίδα για εθνική επιστροφή, αποκατάσταση κι ανάταξη.

«Πάλι με χρόνια με καιρούς πάλι δικιά μας θάναι» ή το εμβληματικά «Η Ρωμανία πέρασε, η Ρωμανία ‘πάρθεν. / Η Ρωμανία κι αν πέρασεν, ανθεί και φέρει κι άλλο»

 

 

Η παντελής απουσία τέτοιων παρηγορητικών τραγουδιών ή φράσεων από την Μικρασιατική καταστροφή ίσως προκαλεί πολλές απορίες γιατί ο θυμόσοφος λαός και οι λαϊκοί μουσικοί πάντα αρέσκονται να καταγράφουν με την «τέχνη» τους και μία ελπίδα. Ελπίδα που είναι τόσο απαραίτητη για τα άτομα και το έθνος. Αυτή η απουσία συνιστά και μία παραδοχή των τετελεσμένων ιστορικών γεγονότων; Υπόρρητα δηλώνει και μία εθνική κόπωση που γεννά και τρέφει την εθνική απαισιοδοξία και την έλλειψη εθνικών οραμάτων; Δεν ωφελεί, λοιπόν, να θρηνούμε για το παρελθόν. Αναγκαία τα «μνημόσυνα» αλλά το μέλλον για να κερδηθεί χρειάζεται οράματα κι αυτοπεποίθησηΟι ήττες μάς διδάσκουν και μάς πεισματώνουν.

Πολλά «Γιατί»

Με το τέλος των εκδηλώσεων για τα 100 χρόνια της Μικρασιατικής καταστροφής αιωρείται ακόμη ένα αναπάντητο Γιατί; Ποιος μπορεί να έφταιξε για την εθνική αυτή τραγωδία. Ποιος μπορεί άθελά του να θυσίασε τις ζωές χιλιάδων Ελλήνων στο όνομα κάποιων απραγματοποίητων εθνικών οραμάτων (Μεγάλη ιδέα); Ποιος θα δώσει μία πειστική απάντηση για τα αίτια του αφελληνισμού της Ιωνίας Γης; Ποιος θα αιτιολογήσει πειστικά το εθνικό μας σαράκι – ελάττωμα να είμαστε διχασμένοι την ώρα που έπρεπε να είμαστε ενωμένοι; Ποιοι ιστορικοί θα αιτιολογήσουν την απόρριψη εκείνων των «φωνών» που συμβούλευαν ρεαλισμό και αυτοσυγκράτηση στις βλέψεις των Ελλήνων στρατηγών για κατάληψη της Άγκυρας (Μεταξάς); Ποιος θα μάς διδάξει πως αξιολογικά υπέρτερη είναι η σωτηρία της πατρίδας και όχι η διάσωση των προσώπων που ασκούν πολιτική ηγεμονία;

Πολλά τα Γιατί, λοιπόν, και λίγες οι πειστικές απαντήσεις. Ένας λαός χρειάζεται πολλά να μάθει και το κυριότερο να μάθει πως κάποιες εθνικές αλήθειες είναι ανώτερες και πιο επωφελείς από κάποια φθηνά ιδεολογήματα και ξεπερασμένες ιδεολογίες. Καλές και εθνικά επωφελείς οι εκδηλώσεις – μνημόσυνα αλλά χρειάζεται και μία εθνική διαπαιδαγώγηση για τις ευθύνες και το χρέος μας ως πολιτών με την ριζική έννοια του όρου.

 


Σίγουρα «Λαός χωρίς μνήμη είναι λαός χωρίς ταυτότητα». Ωστόσο το ζητούμενο είναι να ανοιχτούμε στο μέλλον με ισχυρή εθνική ταυτότητα στις νέες προκλήσεις της εποχής μας που δεν συγχωρούν λάθη και πολιτικές ή εθνικές αβελτηρίες. Διαφορετικά κινδυνεύουμε να συμπάσχουμε με τον τραγουδιστή του ποντιακού θρήνου.

«Τ’ εμετέρτς αναστορώ, όι/ όι/ και ‘ς σο ψυόπο μ’ κουβαλώ»

(Θυμάμαι τους δικούς μου, όι, όι και στην ψυχή μου τους κουβαλώ)

 

Μικρασιατική καταστροφή-Ξυλούρης-Γαργανουράκης

  ☆Το παρόν άρθρο αποτελεί προϊόν της παρακολούθησης μιας εκδήλωσης της "Ευξείνου Λέσχης " Ποντίων και Μικρασιατών Ν Τρικάλων για τα 100 χρόνια από την Μικρασιατική καταστροφή(Κυριακή  25/2022).












Short story by Do Cong Tiem from Vietnam

 


His biography:

Full name: Do Cong Tiem
Born in 1955

Published works:
A neighbor friend; Short story collections. Writers' Association Publishing House in 2005.
A sparse night; Collection of short stories - Army Publishing House in 2010.
Neighbor’s Lights - Army Publishing House in 2019.

Literature prize:
C Prize for “Neighbor’s Lights”, Collection of short stories in 2019
First Prize in Memoir for “The Land of Minh Tan 2018”.


His short story

Students’ looks

I was born in a small village in the Northern Delta. My village was poor. Poverty was almost a tradition of farmers from the first time breaking land to establish the village. Experienced ups and downs, the people were still in the dark of hardship all year round.

I was lucky to be born when the North was just liberated. I was allowed to go to school. I graduated from high school when the anti-American resistance war was in the end. Together with the village boys, I joined the army to go to the South to fight the enemy. The war ended, I returned safely. I dreamed of sitting in the lecture hall of a university in Hanoi. But the dream did not come true, I entered a pedagogical school of the province.

In pedagogical school, I met Mi, the girl with a round face, long black eyes. Her figure was slim and strong. Mi had a white skin with pretty fingers that many young girls in the town must envy.

I studied Literature, and Mi studied Mathematics.

I and Mi became close to each other because some reasons. We were from the same community. I lived in Mai village, and Mi in Dong village. The two villages were separated by a Doc site. When the rainy season comes, Doc site became a bag of water from the high fields in the village pouring down. Doc was flooded with white water, like a vast lake.

On holidays, Mi and I often went home together. Sometimes, Sunday I wanted to stay but Mi was unhappy, I had to go back with her. I drove Mi by a nosy bicycle. Mi sat behind: "Why are the clouds so white today!". Again: "The sky is so high and blue!". "YES". "There's a flock of birds flying over you!" "Really!". I humbly replied. Due to of her, I had planned this Sunday to visit a friend in the same old unit in the next district, but I had to postpone it to comply with Mi's wishes.

I was really annoyed and angry, but I never dared to resist Mi's will. From the bottom of my heart, I always wished that being asked for help from Mi. When Mi was not around, I felt missed, an emptiness filled in me.But when I was near Mi, I always created a difference. I was indifferent and cold. As if I wanted to show Mi and everyone that I was just a "communal countryman". Or Mi was still just a little girl, still in need of help. But all my cover-ups, just created a silly awkwardness in front of everyone.

On the contrary, Mi was always open and impulsive. Outside of school hours, Mi came down to my room a few times in a day. Every time Mi had a good reason to find me: “Brother Hoang! Take me to town for a bit." Or: “Brother Hoang! Go into the neighborhood and ask for some lemongrass tubers for me!". Or: “Brother Hoang! Lend me the book!"

Mi studied math, but she was strangely fond of literature. She memorized many poems by Pushkin, Maia, Nguyen Du and some pre-war poets. She talked to me about literature without getting bored. I realized that Mi read various books.And had a very profound in literature.

Once, Mi and I came home late from school. When we started to leave highway No. 1 to turn onto the gravel road, it was just sunset falling. From here, it took about an hour to get home by bike. I tried to cycle faster. I was busy cycling when Mi suddenly jumped down the road. I braked and got out of the bike in a panic.

- What happen?

Mi stood as silent as the standing sky. Eyes looked to the far horizon.

- Look!

Mi whispered. I followed Mi's hand pointing. Only in the distance were villages connected to each other. And in front of me were vast rice fields, slowly changed the color.

- Do you see anything? –

Mi still whispered. I stared blankly at Mi's face shining in the twilight.

- Those… oak trees… there!

Mi stammered with emotion. Mi's emotions suddenly rushed over to me.

- L.Tolstoi's oak trees!

I shouted softly. Then boldly stretched out my arms and hugged Mi. She totally leaned on me. Her head rested on my chest.

- Say "Love me"!

Mi spoke very softly, but clearly and quickly like a breeze. I turned around and looked straight at Mi. I looked deeply into the depths of her beautiful deep eyes. I hugged Mi tightly to my heart and kissed gently on her lips.

Time to study in pedagogical school went so fast. I and Mi both graduated with high results. And we were able to return to work in our home district.After Mi and I settled in, we held a wedding ceremony. After the wedding, my wife and I moved out to live separately.

In my hometown, there has been a custom for generations. It is the house and land of the parents that are left for the eldest son. There are also families that leave assets for the youngest son to inherit. In this case, the elder brother and his wife must have a generous heart for the younger brother.

When I went to live separately, Mi and I only brought two small suitcases: One of the wife, one of the husband. The wedding bed was boughtby my savings, which I left to my younger sister who was also getting married soon.

I asked to transfer to the same school as Mi. We moved into the school dormitory. Among the families in the dormitory, there is Mr. Tu's family, both werethe school's teachers. Loan's and Phuc's husbandswere still in the army. And Vinh’s husband was working at the Procuracy of the province. Of the five families, four had children. The most crowded family has three, the least has one. Only my wife and I were still free.

Tu's family had many members. Both husband and wife were hard working. In addition to the time to prepare lessons for class, they were all working hard to increase production. Not just teacher Tu's family, every family in the dormitory were the same. The school's vacant land was very spacious. Where trees can be planted, people try to plant. From sugarcane bushes, cassava clumps to loofah, vegetables... The products from that strength and sweat had also served for shortages of daily life.

The alone families were Mrs. Loan and Mrs. Phuc. Their husbands just went away. The children were all young, get sick always. Every time they were sick, the whole dormitory was worried. Some took them to the hospital, other tried to find medicine. Even the pig of one family stopped eating, everyone gathered to find a cure.

Our dairy standards, one month we spent on my parents, the other month on my wife's parents. In the third month, you can keep it for yourself. But if there was a sick child in the dormitory, we brought it to them “We are healthy, we can eat anything. Children are sick, need some nourishment." Mi said so.When Mrs. Loan gave birth to another child, at that time, the food store added dried cassava to the food standards. Before going to bed, Mi discussed with me: "This month, we will carry the padding for Mrs. Loan!".

I found that Mi was more beautiful than anything attractive in the world. I rolled into her lap. Kissing all over her body. Mi's slender fingers traced the chin of my beard, gently rubbing my body. She put her lips close to my ear: "Calm down, the house next door is still awake!". I whispered in her ear: "I'm sure everyone will sympathize with us". She grabbed my head and pulled me to her chest. Our two bodies entwined. Get lost in the space of happiness...

My wife and I as well as other teachers at the school, were very passionate about our profession. Mi was very active in attending class visits, often learning from the experiences of her colleagues. To prepare for an hour of class, Mi read more references. Although she has just graduated, the teachers in the school all appreciated that Mi hadstrong skills.

On free evenings, everyone gathered in the courtyard. Teacher Tu accompanied the guitar for Mrs. Phuc and Mi to sing. Mrs. Phuc was old but still retains her smooth and youthful voice. Very compatible with Mi's voice. The two passionately sang all the songs requested by people. Singing until the dew covered with leaves and falling on our heads. Then everyone took a break.

There were also moonlit nights, the children pulled together to play outside. The adults gathered around to listen to me and Mr. Tu discussed literature. Then everyone turned to discuss the student's learning situation. We worked together to find effective teaching methods. Frankly advised each other on class times. People also talked about everyday life. There were a couple of lamentations… Mi enthusiastically resolves: “The country has just gone through such a long and fierce war. Let's believe in tomorrow…”

It was Mi's turn to give birth. Again the busy, the hard, the difficulties. Sometimes Mi also felt discouraged before the shortages that are increasingly weighing on the life. But my wife and I had everyone around us, we relied on each other. Let's save money together, gradually step through… so that we remained one-hearted with our profession, with our careers.

The time passed. The country entered a period of renewal. The change of the market economic mechanism pushed the change of many lives and families. The life of the people in my hometown was improved day by day. People started thinking about taking care of their children's education. Then the student's need for additional learning arose. Some teachers opened classes to teach more. And Mi also started to open classes.

At first, each student only had to pay a small amount with a modest contribution. But for families in the countryside, money to spend for daily life was still limited. But the students' parents still enthusiastically tried. Because everyone wanted to leave their children with good education.

Mi taught math, and I taught literature. Initially only teaching the upper grades, and prepared students for the entrance exam to high school. Our review classes every year achieved a very high rate. Therefore, students come to register to study more and more. I was really pleased with the love of my students…

The work fascinated us to the point of dizziness. Because we still had to ensure the school's teaching plan. I and Mi have well implemented all professional regulations. We never undercut or overlap our prescribed programs and we did everything else well. Always tried to achieve the title of good teacher at all levels.

Mi was not only a good teacher but also a good classroom teacher. I must admit that Mi had an art of classroom work that not many teachers in the school can do. Individual students, no matter how stubborn, entered Mi's class was to follow the rules immediately. There have been children who have made tremendous progress, surprised their parents and everyone else.The school's students were all children of farmers. Almost all teachers were afraid of the amount of money. As for Mi, it was light. Mi’s class always completed all payments ahead of time.

In the final grades, Mi always had gifts for each student. It was just a card or a small notebook. Mi stayed up at night to neatly write each line of farewell cards. And so the students always thought of their teacher.

We had extra income. I noticed that the family's economy was getting better quickly. A few years ago, Mi bought land on a district street. Then we built a house. Repaired motorbikes and other means of living. I thought I was living in a dream.

One morning, Mi went to teach. I was drinking tea when the electric bell rang. I opened the door. In front of me was a man whose age was difficult to guess. He was wearing a faded Suzhou cloth. Sun-tanned skin, sunken eyes looked at me. He brought a boy. Iguessed his son.

- Sorry! Who do you ask?

The man looked at me for a moment and then burst out laughing.

- Oh my God! So you don't recognize me for real? I'm Canh. The strongest eater in the platoon, often had to eat others’ rice.

He smiled, grabbed my hand and shook it.

- Canh! I remember! Damn it! Sympathize for me. You changed so much!

And I recognized him right away. How fat and handsome he was.

I invited Canh into the house. Poured water to invite Canh and son. After chatting for a while, Canh boldly stated the reason for his visit.

- I agree! Just leave him here for us. I will definitely train him to pass the entrance exam to high school.

I kept Canh stay to eat. But Canh definitely refused. He gave an excuse to be busy with another job.

I arranged for his son to stay in a separate room upstairs. My two children were studying in Hanoi, the house was very spacious, now with more people coming, it would be less deserted. But the most exciting thing was that I can help my old teammate.

At noon, Mi returned. I announced that the old friend came to send his son. Mi kept silent and said nothing. I knew Mi seemed displeased. But I already accepted, so Mi had to accept.

The boy was very bright.He was extremely hard working. Cooking the food was very good. All the cleaning was done properly. Mi's clothes, he took all the laundry. "Machine washing consumes electricity and is not clean by hand". He said so.

The day of exam has arrived. Canh and his wife came to my house to pick up their son and also wanted to have words with my wife and me. Canh and his wife brought chicken and rice. After an intimate meal, Canh asked permission to pay part of the money for us. Mi immediately handed Canh a piece of paper. I took a quick glance at the paper that had clearly written down each item's tuition, meal, electricity, water... Then the numbers added up. Canh and his wife passed each other to look at the paper. They looked at each other, their faces were little pale. Then the couple searched for money in their pockets.

- My wife and I… not prepared enough today…I pay partly first. I'm begging for pay until the beginning of this month. We will bring it to pay you!.

- Well this is fine!

Mi just took the money and answered emphatically.

Canh and his wife got up and left immediately. When they left, I closed the door.

- Why do you count them so much?

I raised my voice.

- It's also a good price! Try recalculate.

Mi called out a bunch of exact numbers.

- Don't you know he was an acquaintance of mine?

- What about the children of many acquaintances who are studying? Can everyone teach without pay?

I was startled. Before, I could only teach, and the money was at Mi. Now that I started to learn, I startled. Mi has increased the price of each tutoring session to a very high level in the area. But because of the prestige, students still rushed to apply. Among them were some children of my old teammates. There were some people who left flesh and blood in the battlefield, they faced many difficulties.When I asked, Mi replied bluntly: "Children of policy families already have the State's regime".

And those who were close relatives of both sides, friends and colleagues, but teaching other subjects, they sent their children to our classes. I assumed that Mi did not collect money from their children. Unexpectedly… so I realized why some people looked at me with different eyes recently. I suddenly remembered the sunset of that year, looked at the magical clouds, and the old banyan trees still full of energy in life, but Mi saw it as the oak trees in Russia. Where were the dreams of the past?

I felt sad. At work and also in the love of husband and wife, Mi patted me: “If we don't teach more, we won't have any money to spend. Money for children's education. Money to spend at home now. Do you know how much a month? Or do you want to return to the old life of growing cassava and vegetables?”

Hearing Mi said that, I also felt relieved in my heart. I thought to myself, many people teaching more. Perhaps because there was demand, there must be supply. And in this life, it was only natural that one person feeding the other. Now everyone can live well. It was also reasonable for them to spend a little money to educate their children.

And now I started to pay attention to Mi's money collection. Mi always had some envelopes ready. Students only needed to put money in, wrote their names and then gave to her. Mi never counted money in front of students. When got home, sheopened to count again. I felt thorns in my body every time watching Mi's fat fingers gently extracting money out of fragile envelopes. The same fingers stroked to smooth each money. Every time the money collected in the month was lower than the previous month, Mi would unreasonably angry. I felt bored.

The sadness kept creeping into my deep heart. Many times, I was just startled and bewildered. Living in the mid of wealth, full of everything, yet I still felt like something missing. Inside, it arose a desire without a name. What do I crave for? I still can't figure out what I was craving.

One afternoon I went for a walk aimlessly. I met so many people, strangers, acquaintances, and so many students I was teaching. I looked at them and they looked at me too. Suddenly, I realized that I was longing to see the eyes of students in the old days. Eyes as clear as early morning drops. Those eyes looked at me so passionate. It contained an infinite gratitude.

And so many desires, so eagerly waited for, although on each of those young faces soon lingered a bit of sunshine and rain. They knew to absorb knowledge as hard as their parents' lives. Sometimes when they did notlearn well, they looked at me with a pleading look. Yet they were still mischievous, still had fun. Because those pure souls inherited their kind and simple hearts. I loved them so much.

At that time, Mi and I, as well as other teachers in the school, often took turns to pick up bicycles to support the weak students or train students who were preparing to take the exams. When leaving, saw a banana or some fish hanging from the top of the bike: "Mau's friend just caught a fish. The teacher bring it home to bake and then dim the sauce for your son to eat" Another day: “My mother told me to bring you some chicken eggs compared to me. If you don't accept me, your mother will scold me."

And now, I saw often the cold eyes of the children, sometimes even their cold eyes. It was as if they wanted to say that my wealth was due to their money. I felt more and more painful. I was constantly losing sleep, and then sometimes just a nap, I woke up deliriously, sweating like a bath.

My heart was pounding as if it had just been sucked into a deep whirlpool. To be honest, I had written several times to the Women's newspaper to lament and consult Ms. Thanh Tam, the person I trusted the most. I patiently waited for a reply, but perhaps because I was too busy, I still did not see her reply. There was a colleague who was very close to me, in one drinking session, I confided to him all, he said: "Ms. Thanh Tam only mentally advises the internal affairs of women together, and you As a man, you have no right to question. You should know your fate, then silently surrender, and if you have any intention of stirring up resistance, then take care of yourself. At the very least, you could lose your progress, because of the crime of violent intent against women, unfortunately if you break the Ordinance on Protection of Mothers and Children, your life would be over".

All these serious things, but my friend smiled. I was bewildered, also smiled at me, feeling so naive.






Poems by Duong Huy from Vietnam


 Poems by Duong Huy from Vietnam


His biography:
Full name: Phan DuyHuong
Born on January 1, 1939
Hometown: QuynhDoi, QuynhLuu, NgheAnprovince.
Member of Vietnam Writers’ Association, Member of Vietnam Journalists Association, Member of NgheAn Culture and Arts Association.

Printed works:
7 poetry booksfor children; 4 satirical poetry books; 5 satirical skits; 3 poems used in textbooks for children.

Literary awards:
Prize A for satirical poetry of Van Nghe newspaper; Third Prize for Poetry Book (Three Rats); Official Prize for mischievous; Official Prize for A boat sleeping at the bank; Ho Xuan Huong Award (NgheAn province)


His poems:


Mischievousness of No. 0


In the sequence of natural numbers
No. 0 is mischievous
It is fat round
But it is really nothing
Adding a beard suddenly become fat
No. 0turns to 9

Hang it upside down and count
No. 9 falling 3
Piling buds of flowers
Two No. 0 turn to 8
Using a stick to visit friends
The No. 0 turns to 10.


A round world

Uncle Compa has two legs
Legs, one long and one short
The long leg holding a pencil
Running around the page
The short leg standing firmly
Nobody can shake

Then oh, you see
The round world appeared
Here are the diospyros, annonasquamosa
Here are red and blue balls
The ball rolling on the field
The egg lying in a haystack

Tiny marbles
The huge globe
The naughty No. 0
Using a stick for long ways…

Thank you, Uncle Compa
Diligent and hard working
The world it draws
Fully, not distortedly.



Everybody working

The wind bridges
Through two apple branches
A locust pound rice
Uncle Cicada plays an instrument
A yellow Bee flutters

Reaching out to suck nectar
Earth Antscheer up!
Carrying rice all day
Ms. Spider’s hands are busy
Weaving to catch mosquito

Uncle Worm works hard
Digging soil and caving
A mouse clicks on the table
Saving the data warehouse...

No complaint tired
Hard-working
Good pupils every day
Happily going to school


The moon

1st, 2nd, 3rd
The tiny moon is called the new one
15th is bright moon, full moon
It is as delicious as shrimp cracker in the sky
16th to 30th
It is faintly visible, the crescent moon


A bread

The fragrant yellow bread
Hot and crispy
BoyTi takes a bite
Oh delicious, so delicious!

-Come on, let me eat together
BoyTo’s covetous voice
- Oh! I'm sorry
I'm half-eaten

GirlHoa clings to Ti's shirt
-Let me take a bite
- You are so fat
Must abstain, do not eat

And boyToan, the best friend
Often sharing happiness and sadness
But not now
Tomorrow, could be!


The grandma slowly gets smaller

When the granddaughter was a little baby
As high as on grandma’s waist
The granddaughter fell and cried
The grandma quickly helped her up

The home gardenwasfamiliar
The grandma growed jackfruit, annonasquamosa
Annona squamosa boomedmany seasons
Jackfruit beared fruit

The granddaughter grows up every day
The tree gets taller every day
The fruit is bigger and bigger
The grandma slowly... gets smaller



From 1 to 10

A stork sleeps with 1 leg
A bird flies with 2 wings
Mother setsa pot of rice cakes
On the 3-legged tripod
Baby spells
On a 4-legged chair

Flag flies in the sunshine
5 yellow stars
Parents go to work
Off on Friday afternoon
Grandma comes to visit her granddaughter
Crossing 7 spans

Invitingthe grandma to eat betel
With rice 8*
Kite fluttering
Among 9 layers of clouds
Beautiful writing, good singing
10 points for a red book
Read more time
A stork sleeps with 1 leg

*A delicious and fragrant rice like sticky one


I am a ball

I am a ball
My body is round
Leather jacket, empty stomach
I am hyperactive
Love to dance, love to fly…

Whistle calling to the yard
I'm shouting
A long and wide lawn
Jumping and rolling happily.

Just kick me hard
I'm not angry
Even though it hurts
I don't grumble.

I fly in the net
Millions of people cheer
Good player
They named a king (scorer).

I like "fair play"
I hate war
Who loves peace
It's my fans.

I am the ball
Flying across the planet…


12 crayons

12 crayons
Hibernate quietly
Suddenly wake up, call each other
Turn its head upside down, work

The green crayon draws the field
Floating and waving rice
Red crayon paints the sun
With thousand new sunshine rays
A yellow crayon draws apricot branches
Waving the flying swallows

A purple crayon draws traditional long dresses
Graceful dresses in festivals
And on grandfather’s chin, the beard
A white color
One flash, new page
Green, red, yellow, purple, white
Fun colors singing.

12 crayons
Looking at each other, laughing satisfactorily
Suddenly realized something strange
All of them are shorter.



The mother’s lullaby

Ah Oh!
The bird lulls thewords of the dawn
The wind lulls the words of sunny and rainy fields
The river lulls the words of two banks
The sunshine lulls the words of white stork wings
The blue sky lulls dove wings
The garden lulls the words of the faithful betel piece

The mountain lulls the words of the falcon
The sea lulls the words of far away waves
The land lulls the words of ancestors
Thousands of beautiful historicpages shine with victories
Ah Oh!
The native country
Mixing in the warm voice of mothers lull the children.



(Translated from Vietnamese into English by Hanoi Female Translators)








Poetress Anila Talib from Pakistan

 

We are Stronger than we Think- A success story of Anila Talib

present by Urooj Abid


It is Allah who selects his favorite people to play their part in flourishment of nation, the name Anila Talibb is one of them. Her achievements are marvelous as she is the girl who holds the record of being youngest world recorder. Not only this, she is award winning authoress and recognized as globe peace maker ambassador. Additionally. She is writer of 10 renowned books and among them her master piece is ‘Roshan Sitray’ that is the most celebrated one. To her creativity, she wrote this book when she was only 18 years of age. In this regard, she payed tribute to her role models by looking for 61 personalities this led to sing unsung heroes of Pakistan.
Her accomplishments are not limited to this, she is the one who is featured in multiple magazines from all over the world including USA, Bangladesh ,Dubai. Recently her name is appeared in KenyaTimes and Kishor Magizine. It is a Bangladeshi literary magazine, which is regularly published online in Bangla from Bangladesh. It is the world largest Multi-language literary magazine. The famous international writer respected Tamikio has presented his poem on her program Coffee Talk which is broadcasted from Michigan. Anila Talib welcomed the kind comments of author and said "I am extremely grateful to the host for giving me this honor, the writer's literary services are worthy to praise".
She is native of a village in Gujranwala where girls' education was nonexistent in her neighborhood. She is the eldest daughter of her father and belongs to a backward area where people are not willing to educate their daughters. But she set an example not only for their siblings but also for every girl who wants to achieve her goals and dreams. Subsequently she also helped more than 200 girls for accomplishing their goals by educating them.
She successfully runs her two projects i.e ‘Anila Talib Foundation’ and ‘Light for All’. To her greatness, she established an online training program through her foundation that plays role to empower women in overcoming difficult economic circumstances during an epidemic with the goal of boosting confidence among divorced widows and the young girls in rural areas. She taught free Quran to 500 girls. She has built the first writing academy in Pakistan with her eve dour more profoundly she is giving hundreds of aspiring writers a free platform to bring forth their creative power. The writings of many people under the auspices of this academy have become jewels of newspapers. Her love is not only confined to human but she has also a soft heart for animals too. She has started an animal rights’ campaign in which she instructs the local on how to deal with stray animals and provide food for various animals and birds.
she has a strong love and devotion for Sufism that dates back to her early years. She also has excessive feelings for Maulana Rumi, Waris Shah, Bhulle shah and Wasif Ali wasif. She commented that Maulana Rumi gave her the fundamental lesson of life, which is to "Love Humanity". She is a young lady with a pure soul, no doubt that kind of person is greatly needed who are selfless to their duties.
Her achievements are difficult to describe in words but here are her top ten achievements:
1. World Record Holder
2. World first poetess to write 99 poems (Hamd) on 99 names of Allah
3. Pakistan's Young award-winning writer from 61 countries.
4.Pakistan's first lady who won Merit award from Rayol family of Indonesia.
5. Youngest Pakistani who won international women pride from Phillipines.
6. Youngest writer who wrote Hyco poetry.
7. Youngest chairperson of Moeneedin Foundation Asia region from Pakistan.
8. First Youngest Pakistani writer who slected for....
9. First Youngest Pakistani poetess whose peotry published at International level.
10. First Paksistani who won Global award 2022 from Nigeria

She has won many titles , awards and certificates from different countries i.e USA , Saudi Arabia, Dubai, Morocco, Italy and Indonesia. Her dreams are as big as her ideas are. She wants to work for the humanity without any discrimination of culture and religion but only for the sake of Allah. She has message of peace to the world as it is reflected by her poem.


A message of peace

I want to spread the message of peace
In this whole world
We all want peace
Let's be a song
of peace
Throw away the sorrow
To hate
Cover the cloak of love
And become
Companions of love
And flowers like that
Give fragrance to everyone
Life is too short
Fill it with color
Each other's tears
clean up
And stick together


Anila Talib
pakistan








Ποίημα της Εύας Πετροπούλου Λιανού μεταφρασμένο στα Ιταλικά από την Zana Coven

 


One day
I had a dream that
I would grow old like a tree
I would have small flower
Birds would sing to me

One day as I looked myself in the mirror
I saw your face
Your smile
Your eyes

We are all souls
That were waiting to be loved and respected
Mistakes, I make
But I will always have you in my heart
Like my golden secret garden.

Eva Lianou Petropoulou



Un giorno
Ho sognato
Diventerò vecchia come un albero
Avrò dei piccoli fiori
Gli uccelli mi canterano

Un giorno mi guardavo in un specchio
Ho visto il tuo viso,
Il tuo sorriso,
I tuoi occhi

Siamo tutti delle anime
Che vogliono essere amate
E rispettate
Faccio dei sbagli
Ma ti avrò nel mio cuore sempre
Come il mio giardino segreto e dorato

Eva Lianou Petropoulou

Tranlation
Zana Coven