ΘΕΤΡΙΚΗ ΠΑΡΑΣΤΑΣΗ : ΗΜΕΡΟΛΟΓΙΟ ΨΥΧΩΝ ΑΡΧΑΙΟΥ ΔΡΑΜΑΤΟΣ, STUDIO KYΨΕΛΗΣ

 


Ημερολόγιο ψυχών αρχαίου δράματος

Ένα πολιτιστικό γεγονός των ΕΝ.Π.ΑΝ.


Aποσπάσματα από κορυφαίους μονολόγους της ελληνικής δραματουργίας παρουσιάζονται με τη σύγχρονη σκηνοθετική ματιά του Σίμωνα Πάτροκλου, από έγκριτες μεταφράσεις, στο studio Κυψέλης,

Ο Προμηθέας του Αισχύλου, η Ηλέκτρα του Ευριπίδη, ο Τειρεσίας και ο Οιδίποδας τύραννος του Σοφοκλή, η Ελένη του Ευριπίδη, ο Αίαντας του Σοφοκλή, η Κλυταιμνήστρα του Αισχύλου και μέρος Χορικού από την Αντιγόνη του Σοφοκλή.

Σημείωμα του σκηνοθέτη:

Σκηνοθέτησα την παράσταση εμπνευσμένος από τις λυρικές κι σημερινές μεταφράσεις των έργων από το αρχαίο δράμα , με απλό και συνάμα σημερινό τρόπο, σύμφωνα με τις τωρινές ανάγκες του αρχαίου δράματος.

Τα κουστούμια είναι απλά , σύγχρονα, όπως οι ήρωες και οι εξομολογήσεις τους μπροστά στο κοινό.

Ευχαριστώ όλους όσους συμμετέχουν διότι με τη φαντασία και την αγάπη τους σε αυτό με έμαθαν πολλά.


Οι συντελεστές της παράστασης:

Σκηνοθεσία -κουστούμια-σχεδιασμός φωτισμών: Σίμωνας Πάτροκλος.
Κρουστά - ζωντανά: Νίκος Τουλιάτος.
Τεχνικός φώτων: Μάνος Τσιβιλής.


Παίζουν κατά σειρά εμφάνισης: 

Προμηθέας: Νίκος Τουλιάτος,

Ηλέκτρα: Ιωάννα Προσμίτη,

Τειρεσίας και Οιδίποδας τύραννος: Γιώργος Δήμου,

Ελένη: Έφη Χαντζούλη,

Αίαντας: Ξενοφώντας Χατζής,

Κλυταιμνήστρα: Ζωή Τριανταφυλλίδη.

Φιλική συμμετοχή σε βουβά πρόσωπα: Nikifor Danailov.

Διάρκεια θεατρικού δρώμενου 60 λεπτά.

Προπώληση εισιτηρίων:

https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.ticketservices.gr%2Fevent%2Fstudio-kipselis-imerologio-psixon-arxaiou-dramatos%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR0YfZi6YNXT6aL4M40R4rD3YNZDxCIQA7iXWYMXDvu7gYMpB2S9r0RwpqI&h=AT13KgZRWMxPeaQsaBMzaWWr3CGsXIVImvaFBO_Gq64Q_J9j5n5CTGX5Z1FPXya5BqS4Q44wYjYYAex8uPFw_vfxC45J0guqPzsrRW86PWMuN2u3l-9Kw9rIebm87V4z1uCUVA



Studio Kυψέλης: Σπετσοπούλας 9 και Κυψέλης, Κυψέλη.
Παραστάσεις: Τετάρτη 14/12, 21/12, 28/12 και 4/1 στις 7μμ.
τηλέφωνο επικοινωνίας για κρατήσεις θέσεων : 6909192804.

Για τους σκοπούς των ΕΝ.Π.ΑΝ. :10 ευρώ και 5 ευρώ για Αμέα , Ατέλειες, Ανέργους.

Επικοινωνία παράστασης: Ζωή Τριανταφυλλίδη


Τα κείμενα προέρχονται από την έκδοση: Ανθολόγιο θεατρικών μονολόγων, Αρχαιοι Έλληνες συγγραφείς, το οποίο επιμελήθηκε η Ειρήνη Κανακάκη και κυκλοφορεί από τις εκδόσεις Φίλντισι.














Παρουσίαση του βιβλίου " ΚΑΙΡΟΙ ΚΑΙ ΧΡΟΝΟΙ" της, ΜΑΡΙΝΑΣ ΑΝΤΩΝΙΟΥ

 Γενναδίου 8 και Ακαδημίας -10678 ΑΘΗΝΑ

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

 Π...Ρ...Ο...Σ...Κ...Λ...Η...Σ...Η

ΣΑΒΒΑΤΟ 3 ΔΕΚΕΜΒΡΙΟΥ 2022

ΩΡΑ 7:00 μ.μ.

Η Εταιρία Ελλήνων Λογοτεχνών σας καλεί , Γενναδίου 8 και

Ακαδημίας (7 ος όροφος), στην αίθουσα Μιχαήλας Αβέρωφ

στην Παρουσίαση του ποιητικού  "ΚΑΙΡΟΙ ΚΑΙ ΧΡΟΝΟΙ"

της, ΜΑΡΙΝΑΣ ΑΝΤΩΝΙΟΥ

Χαιρετίζει: Παύλος Ναθαναήλ, τέως Πρόεδρος και νυν Αντ/δρος ΕΕΛ.

Ομιλητές: Κώστας Καρούσος, Λογοτέχνης- Εικαστικός Πρόεδρος ΕΕΛ.

Γιάννης Παπαθεοδώρου, Διδάκτορας Φιλολογίας, μέλος ΕΕΛ.

Απαγγέλουν: Βασιλική Σπηλιοπούλου,

και η Ποιήτρια, Μαρίνα Αντωνίου μέλος ΕΕΛ.


Για το Δ.Σ.

Ο Πρόεδρος της ΕΕΛ        Ο Γεν. Γραμματέας της ΕΕΛ

Κώστας Καρούσος         Γιώργος  Μαρινάκης








NΕΟ lyric video για τους BLOOD OF THE WOLF ("Father War Enthroned" μέσα από το άλμπουμ "IV: The Declaration of War Eternal")

 



NΕΟ lyric video για τους BLOOD OF THE WOLF ("Father War Enthroned" μέσα από το άλμπουμ "IV: The Declaration of War Eternal")




Βιογραφικό των Blood of the Wolf
Οι Blood of the Wolf είναι ένα blackened death metal συγκρότημα από το Σικάγο του Ιλινόις. Σχηματισμένοι το 2012, οι Blood of the Wolf συνδυάζουν αιχμηρά riff με αξιομνημόνευτα μελωδικά περάσματα, ανελέητο drumming και έντονη φωνητική απόδοση. Τον Αύγουστο του 2015 το συγκρότημα κυκλοφόρησε το πρώτο του ολοκληρωμένο άλμπουμ "I: The Law of Retaliation". Τον Απρίλιο του 2018, κυκλοφόρησαν το δεύτερο ολοκληρωμένο τους άλμπουμ «II: Campaign of Extermination». Τον Νοέμβριο του 2019, το συγκρότημα κυκλοφόρησε ένα EP με τίτλο “III: Blood Legend”. Και τα τρία άλμπουμ έχουν κυκλοφορήσει από την Horror Pain Gore Death Productions. Οι Blood of the Wolf πλήττουν το κοινό με αδυσώπητη, ασταμάτητη επιθετικότητα. Το συγκρότημα έχει μοιραστεί τη σκηνή με γνωστές μπάντες όπως οι Vader, Marduk, Belphegor, Incantation και άλλοι. Οι θαυμαστές μπορούν να περιμένουν βάρβαρη αγριότητα, αποφασιστικά, μελωδικά περάσματα και βίαια τύμπανα που εκτελούνται με πειθαρχία και στρατιωτική ακρίβεια.
Για τους λάτρεις των: Belphegor, Hate, Vader, Morbid Angel κ.α.

 

Στοιχεία για την κυκλοφορία του "IV: The Declaration of War Eternal"
Οι Blood of the Wolf επιστρέφουν με το άλμπουμ νούμερο τέσσερα με τίτλο, The Declaration of War Eternal. Αυτή η εντυπωσιακή νέα προσφορά περιλαμβάνει εννέα νέα τραγούδια που εκτελούνται με σκληρή πολεμική ακρίβεια. Οι ακροατές θα ακούσουν άγρια riff, αδιάκοπα blast beats, σκοτεινές μελωδίες και έντονα φωνητικά.
Για τους λάτρεις των: Belphegor, Hate, Vader, Morbid Angel κ.α.

Bandcamp: https://bloodofthewolf.bandcamp.com/album/iv-the-declaration-of-war-eternal

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bloodofthewolfmusic

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bloodofthewolf.band/

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/0i8q3A1HKGWnwaGUxJrXqN

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSwwgEP5LNxnebthhCBIQTw







ΗΛΙΑΣ ΓΙΑΝΝΑΚΟΠΟΥΛΟΣ "Μέσα κοινωνικής δικτύωσης και έφηβοι"

 «Οι υπολογιστές είναι σαν τους θεούς της Παλιάς Διαθήκης: πολλοί κανόνες, κανένα έλεος».(Joseph Campell)

Οι τεχνολογικές εξελίξεις επέφεραν βαθύτατες αλλαγές στον τομέα της ενημέρωσης. Ο παραδοσιακός τρόπος επικοινωνίας φθίνει, ενώ ο «ηλεκτρονικός» κατακλύζει όλες τις μορφές των σχέσεών μας. Ιδιαίτερα ο νέος αυτός τρόπος (διαδίκτυο, facebook, twitter…) έγινε άμεσα αποδεκτός από τη νεολαία.

 

Ωστόσο τα όποια θετικά αποτελέσματα απορρέουν από τη χρήση των παραπάνω μέσων κοινωνικής δικτύωσης δεν πρέπει να μάς οδηγούν σε μία εθελοτυφλία. Η άκριτη, δηλαδή, υιοθέτηση αυτών των μέσων από τους νέους ενέχει πολλούς κινδύνους, όταν δεν λαμβάνονται οι αναγκαίες προφυλάξεις. Η «άνευ όρων και ορίων» αποδοχή του πλαισίου επικοινωνίας που διαμορφώνουν τα νέα μέσα εγκυμονεί κινδύνους άλλοτε εμφανείς κι άλλοτε αφανείς.

Οι κίνδυνοι

Η ηλεκτρονική μοναξιά, ο εθισμός, η προβολή του γυμνού, η προπαγάνδιση της βίας και του ρατσισμού καθώς και η συμμετοχή σε τυχερά παιχνίδια είναι μόνο ενδεικτικά παραδείγματα που αισθητοποιούν τους πολλαπλούς κινδύνους. Ο νέος καθίσταται εσωστρεφής, παρουσιάζει συμπεριφορές α-κοινωνικές και γενικότερα αφυδατώνεται από στοιχεία – γνωρίσματα που νοηματοδοτούν την ηλικία του. 

Προτάσεις

Οι προτάσεις για την αντιμετώπιση των κινδύνων μπορούν εύκολα να διατυπωθούν αλλά δύσκολα να υλοποιηθούν. Προς την κατεύθυνση της προστασίας των ανηλίκων χρηστών απαιτούνται δράσεις και μέτρα σε τρία επίπεδα: Στο πρώτο επίπεδο υπάγονται μέτρα που αφορούν τη δυνατότητα που προσφέρει η τεχνογνωσία για να αποκλειστούν από τα μέσα κοινωνικής δικτύωσης θέματα και πληροφορίες που προσβάλλουν τον άνθρωπο, διαβρώνουν τα ηθικά ερείσματα των νέων και θέτουν σε αμφισβήτηση σταθερές αξίες και ιδανικά.

Στο δεύτερο επίπεδο υπάγονται οι αναγκαίες θεσμικές παρεμβάσεις για την πρόληψη ή κολασμό όλων εκείνων που χρησιμοποιούν τα μέσα κοινωνικής δικτύωσης ως μέσο προπαγάνδας ή ακόμη και αποκόμισης υλικών ή άλλων αγαθών. Νομοθεσία, δηλαδή, αυστηρή που θα λειτουργεί τόσο ανασταλτικά όσο και κατασταλτικά.

Το τρίτο επίπεδο αφορά την ενημέρωση. Αυτό πρέπει να παρέχεται τόσο στους γονείς όσο και στους ανήλικους χρήστες. Οι γονείς μπορούν και οφείλουν να εποπτεύουν και να μεριμνούν για τα παιδιά, όταν αυτά για υποκειμενικούς ή αντικειμενικούς λόγους δεν μπορούν να αμυνθούν – προστατευθούν. Το σημαντικότερο, όμως, είναι οι ίδιοι οι χρήστες να ενημερωθούν και να συνειδητοποιήσουν τους κινδύνους. Μόνο η αυτογνωσία και η συνειδητοποίηση μπορούν να προκαλέσουν την αντίδραση σε εκείνα τα μέσα που τείνουν να καταστήσουν τους νέους ανδράποδα της νέας ψηφιακής επικοινωνίας. Η δικαίωση του Όργουελ, όχι μόνο για το «μεγάλο αδερφό» (Big brother) αλλά και για τη θέση του «Δεν θα επαναστατήσουμε αν δεν συνειδητοποιήσουμε».

Οι προϋποθέσεις

Βέβαια όλα τα προτεινόμενα μέτρα για την προστασία των ανηλίκων χρηστών είναι αναποτελεσματικά, αν δεν συνοδευτούν από μία προσπάθεια αναδιάρθρωσης του αξιακού κώδικα της κοινωνίας. Ο νέος, δηλαδή, χρειάζεται ένα ανθρώπινο πλαίσιο επικοινωνίας σε μια κοινωνία που τον εμπνέει και δίνει διέξοδο στις δημιουργικές τους δυνάμεις. Μία κοινωνία από όπου θα αντλεί ένα νέο νόημα ζωής εμπλουτισμένο από τις ακατάλυτες ηθικές αξίες. Γιατί στις μέρες μας ο «τεχνολογικός γιγαντισμός» επέφερε τον «ηθικό νανισμό» και αποδιάρθρωσε τους βασικούς πυλώνες της ανθρώπινης ύπαρξης.

Μόνο, δηλαδή, όταν ο άνθρωπος θα πάψει να χρησιμοποιείται ως μέσο για εξυπηρέτηση άλλων σκοπών, τότε και ο νέος δεν θα καταφεύγει άκριτα στον παράδεισο των μέσων κοινωνικής δικτύωσης. Αυτά απλά πρέπει να παραμείνουν «μέσα» και ο άνθρωπος ο σκοπός, γιατί αυτός συνιστά μία «αυταξία».

«Παλιά είχαμε πολλές ερωτήσεις χωρίς απαντήσεις. Τώρα με τους υπολογιστές έχουμε πολλές απαντήσεις για τις οποίες δεν είχαμε ερωτήσεις».(Πήτερ Ουστίνωφ)

 

https://iliasgiannakopoulos.blogspot.com/




Poems by HUY TRU from Vietnam

 

Poems by HUY TRU from Vietnam


His biography
Pen name: HuyTru, Ma Son
Born in 1950 in Bong Thuong village, Vinh Hung commune, VinhLoc district, ThanhHoa province, Viet Nam
Member of Vietnamese Writers’ Association

Published poetry works:

Oh, Dear boat; Fruits ofearly season; If you don't come; My own region; My own domain; Collection for love; HuyTru's six-eight poetry; HuyTru Selected poetry; Waking up in a dream; Poetry picked up along the way.

Literary Award:
Second prize (no first prize) of Vietnamese Literary Union 1993 for poetry collection “Words of the wind”; Second prize (no first prize) of six-eight poetry contest of Education and Times newspaper and Vietnamese Writers’ Association in 1996 - 1998; Second prize in ThanhHoa poetry contest (1990-1995)…


His poems:


The Ma River

You have come to my homeland
Crossing the rapids once on the Ma River
Not that the ancestor gave the river that strange name
Many lives have thought in front of the immensity

A rooster in the middle of Ba Bong junction
People of six districts listened together, people of six villages waken up together
A "zo hump" sound pushedthe boats along
People on the shore, clothes were also sweaty...

The river was never calm, my dear
Even when the riverbed was exposed with white sand
If waves did not hit the shore, the underground waves would swirl the earth
Did not see the moon rising, did not negligentlyguard the pole...

Having lived in this land, had to accept it together
A saying with half forest, half sea...
Let's devote to reach the shore together
Deep orshallow, alluvial or mudslide sections that were normal.

How many lives immersed with the green stream
Looking back now, the hair is still standing up
Please find the source of one’s sob
Once upon a time,the rapids...

Only one thing you received in Thanh land
The wealth hidden in every wave
So the river before going to the vast sea
Putting on people's hands with storms and floods with silt...


That vegetable

The body is soft, the leaf is thin like nothing
That vegetable grows with wild grass
No one often cares
Living by itself, reaching out itself in the middle of life
Even when crushed under people feet
But the vegetable still never grows thorns
Its endurance is deeply rooted
Even nourishing the germsin disorder seasons
In cases of failure crop or something wrong
People digging in the ground, thought to find gold in the vegetable


Dear centellaasiatica of this land
What to say with the time? Keep be green...


The land of storms

My homeland


The land with many temples and kings
The wind turns into fierce storms
The river also becomes thediversityone
Flowing across the sugarcane and mulberry fields

We grew up with bullets passing across the heads
Wearing soldier uniforms throughout the youth
The waiting moon was late on the returning day
A barren field, thatchroots stood alone...

The throne was fallen for a long time, but here still "king"
There were still hidden shapes
Like mother shadows, hardship in the ground
Sacred teammates can witness to this moment

Unpacking our backpacks, we hoed we plowed
How can plow and hoe untill the end of weed?
A branch of rice just popped out of the ground
Hundreds of pests, hundreds of competantthings divided

We had never hesitated
In front of death, still rushed like waves
Why the miserable mounds outside the desertland
Calling us to go in reverse thelife

Fortunately, there were still daystars
The cold dew waked us up
The soldier nature returned to the soldier
Thought that hands let go, now hold it back like nothing...


Mother’s shadow this afternoon

Mother’s shadow inclineson the river this afternoon
Like a shriveled, wilted rice
Why doesthe sky regret the clouds?
Mother wears a hat, a hotsunny day

The rice plants stand in straight lines
Lots of weeds grow freely
The earth is hard, mother's hands are soft
Mother takescare of rice plants but forgets her old age

Delicious pieces of food are for others
Her bowl is only salted vegetables and solanummacrocarpons!
Throughout the years, she tiesbamboo strings
Tying the seedling, tying multi-worries

In life, the grain is bitten horizontally
No one bites vertically, so embarrassing!
I look at mother’s shadow this afternoon...


A salt grain

I am like asalt grain of the village
Enduring patiently in sunny weather
I and the salt grain are twin
I'm black, the salt grain is sparkling

There is no place like my village
The salt climbs to columns, temple roofs, bunch of arecas...
The day parents loved each other
How much salt was absorbed in... therefore!

Salt in father’s shirt was like alum
The sunshine and the wind blew, father’s face turned black
Days and nights, mother carried back and forth
Salt melted along with sweat on the road

Collecting coins from all directions
Mother chewed cassava, rice gavefor children
Poverty rushed to every storms
Still hugging the salt site, struggling to the day...

Salt is salty, salt is bitter

Still rolling around in this life, finding each other...




The reliefs

(Dedicated to Vietnamese Heroic Mothers)


Mother sitting at the doorstep this afternoon
Thought the white clouds paused to fly overhead
Time is red with betel nut
Mother chews all suffers in life...

Incense sticks are just still new
How much smoke can draw the far people?
Husband and sonare the same altar
Pressing on mother's shoulders, blurred eyes, trembling legs...

Thought life was atrophy, wither
Crescent moon is in front, full moon is behind
Human love is not indifferent, not strange
Mother is like the soil forforest trees surrounding...

Mother is like a tree without branches
The reliefsare lighting offspring’s shapes…


My own domain

I go back to the river
The Ma river with unclear and clear water in whole lifetime
My Bong Thuong village
Floating like a heaven stele by the river
An umbilical cord buried since born
No matter hardship, looking forward to call back

The yellow grass is at the dyke
I ambewildered to meet a lost calf
Bowing the head, lament drops, bitter drops
Listening in the soil, thin bones and incense smoke
River flowing to only one way
One's life drifting in many directions that has not yet been completed...

After being submerged, floating
Waves strongly hit the face, the wave staggers the boat
Only in your lappet
Let me find again my own domain...


Mother as a sunshine drop

Mother as a sunshine drop at the end of the day
I cherish and care by my hands
Knowing that is the law of nature
Though fading, the weaken wick, the flame of inclined wind...

Only empty hands in the night shadow
The nothingness, the silence that is drowning lonely
A corner of the garden, betel yellow leaves are falling
Hearing the rolling sound of lime pots to call people...

Mother, you are hard for whole lifetime
Like a wet rice plant submerged in the middle of a field
With rain, with sunshine that turns flowers
Seeking everywhere to raise the husband, children.

It is said that “The earth is round”
Going back to offer mother a bowl of rice at the early season
What did mother wish in the past
Now can have it, but refuse, choke on words...

Mother as the sunshine drop of the sky
Let me face up for the whole life looking for ...



Tomorrow… the Hue land

(Dedicated to poet Nguyen Trong Tao)


Thin dreamy shirt... at the afternoon in Hue
I got lost in you so tenderly
The apple tree at the end season,leaves are shaken
The fruit fellwith multi-worries...

I carry my whole life around
Don’t know the Huong river with purple water
And at the afternoon of Vi village let me meet
The falling eyebrow of dreamy Hue...

The waving yellow beer that inclines the old town
Pouring it all in me, not drunk enough
I drink both the sky and the wind
Loving by all my heart until empty hands...

Even though knowing that whole life as a stranger
Tomorrow, who will pick up...who will take...
A thin fragile silk behind the leaf arch
Hue drops on me a talisman...



The countryside alley

The countryside alley leads me home
Not so many don't have a countryside alley – Once a time...
When I am not in the world
The countryside alleywas full of feelings

Red bibs, mud-dyed long dress
The fence, the mother installed, the wind swinging
The countryside alley where plows and harrows were arranged
Pants pulled up, father drove the buffalo

The countryside alley, the place welcomed mother
A string of fallen apples, distributed throughout the village
The countryside alley did not care rich or poor
Did not look away, taking care the poverty

Calling each other withsteamedrice cake, layer cake
The countryside alley was generous, the laughter was clear
Once loved, loved until "dead"
The country alley - The place of the wandering couples…

Feet went all over the cities
Still carrying a grain of love –The country alley...


(Translated into English by Khanh Phuong)





Carpe "Λάμψεις..."



Ζούμε σε κόσμους παράλληλους,
σε μια αδιαφορία προσποιητή
που καίει με το πρώτο άγγιγμα.
Στις σχισμές της καρδιάς
ξεπροβάλλει διστακτικά η αλήθεια.
Στον κάθε χτύπο της
αποτυπώνεται η ένταση.
Αφήνω στα χέρια σου
την ανάσα μου,
τη μυρουδιά των όσων ζήσαμε.
Στα τοπία των αισθήσεων
ο χρόνος μηδενίζεται,
μια αίσθηση ελευθερίας
μαλακώνει το σκληρό υπέδαφος.
Το παράφορο πάθος
αναγνωρίζεται στις αμήχανες κινήσεις,
και στην αρρυθμία της καρδιάς.
Όταν συναντιόμαστε
εκ προ μελέτης εντελώς τυχαία,
σπαρταρά ο εσωτερικός μου κόσμος.
Με βλέμματα φευγαλέα
ανταλλάξαμε και πάλι τις λάμψεις μας.

Carpe.


Η εικόνα είναι από https://gr.pinterest.com/





Short story by Vu Thao Ngoc from Vietnam


 


Short story by Vu Thao Ngoc from Vietnam


Her brief biography:

Writer Vu Thao Ngoc, a prose author who has won many specialized literary awards. She is especially successful in the field of literature on the topic of workers and women with a soft voice, rich in emotions and literary images. During her writing career so far, she published 27 literature works including novels, poetry collections, short stories, critical essays and literature for children. Among them, the most impressive works are "Sun Valley" - a collection of short stories, "Moss and Stone" - a collection of poems, "Three Men" - a novel, "The furnace light" - a novel, and several other literature works.


The kitting woman by Vu Thao Ngoc

(Translated into English by Khanh Phuong)

There are more than a dozen old dormitories nestled under a big banyan tree at small alley. The banyan tree must have had a long life because its stem that is not hugged by two people. Its roots have also dropped to cling to the soil and form new stems that are as big as a field plow. The alley with more than a dozen temporary houses belongs to an old shipyard.

At present, the shipyard has been moved, the row of houses remains because it is nestled in the back village, naturally become an indispensable part of theunspoilt coastal settlement. The house at the end of the alley near the oldest banyan tree, its owner is a knitting woman. Her name is Tan, the name is also sweet and tender, Nguyen Thanh Tan. After that, she has a name to call that is not confused with anyone that everyone in the area calling by the age, from the time as “sister”, then “aunt”, then to “grandmo” knitting Tan.

Her figure is small, she suffers from chronic asthma, so her neck always is wrapped by a moss-colored scarf. Angled face. If don't look closely, one will think her age of around seventy years old. But it turned out that she is only a little over fifty. The face is rough, the thin lips are always pursed, the eyes are opaque without light ray but are very sharp. She had been stayed in the last room for a long time. It is heard that some of the younger brothers left, giving the room to the older sister. The room was moldy by the time. It contains all the sadness, and her joy.

From time to time one heard the male cat's creepy howl over there. Then stop. She rarely goes far. If not wrong, she just went through this long alley of more than a dozen dormitories dating from the sixties, old and dilapidated. Her path only is from the beginning of the alley with the spontaneous market of the dormitory, then stopped.

Tan also studied well when she was a child, but due to a fever, she had a convulsion when ten years was old, her limbs crinkled, fortunately her parents took good care of her with good medicine, so now she is not so disabled.Her steps are difficult with chronic asthma made her weak all the time. One arm and one leg on the same side are also atrophied. Everyone said, fortunately she was still alive, but she became attached to whole life as a sick person. What to eat, what to do with her are also unanswered questions. When her parents were still alive, she and her two younger brothers were always pampered. Then they all grew up, went to school, got married, having children, only she holds the loneliness of illness.

She found joy herself in knitting scarves and sweaters when her mother took her to a career center in the district. There are many jobs at the center, but she is only suitable for knitting. Because she knows her hands can only do that work. Later, she had many works to take care of her life. She thanked her mother for her long-term vision. If her mother did not lead her to this work, it would be difficult for her to take care of her life.

So from that day on, she taught herself, tinkered with each needle, and when it became a profession, she had a lot of creativity for that work. Her products are ordered by many people. The whole year she was busy with the orders for customers. The whole neighborhood therefore called her a knitting woman. In that small room, she and her two younger brothers were born. That room contained the joyful childhood of the three children, welcomed two sisters-in-law and in turn their parents welcomed first grandsons.

And in turn, when her parents returned to the distant world, that room was filled with priceless memories of her warm family that she always kept and never wanted it to disappear from this earth. She took care of her grandchildren, all was taken care by her. When they grew up, their parents could afford to live on their own, so they followed their parents to another places, they left a room at the end of the alley to her.

What to do, they have to go. She knows how it ends...

Only the youngest brother's family remained with her a little longer. Shethought, maybe he still needs her looking after his two children. Then, they grow up a bit, they will go too. She tried to keep her heart at peace with the room at the end of the alley. Well, never mind, they stay, she is happy, if they go, she will take care of herself, can't blame them. This room in the past was poor and spacious enough for a family of five or six people, but now life is much better, she alone is too cramped. Must be content with the present, she always told herself.

But one day, the youngest brother held his sister's weak hands, his eyes filled with tears, he said. “Mom told me to look after you until you "go", she told me and said, whoever this house belongs to, that person must take care of you. But you know, sister-in-law just doesn't suit to you. The grandchildren love you, but your sister-in-law doesn't like you. It's hard for me to say in the middle. Moreover, the children still have to study. If staying in here, it is difficult for them to develop up.

And their grandmother's house is ready to give them high-class apartment for their grandchildren and your grandchildren to enjoy. What do you think. What do you need, you tell me. I won't leave you”.

He cried loudly. She just held his hands tightly. Tears welled up in her eyes. But her smile was as bright as a flower, and she told her brother about leaving this room as if she had finished knitting a hat, nothing to be worried. Her brother cried.She laughed although knew it was going to happen like this, just didn't think it would happen so soon. She suppressed her voice and said affectionately to her brother “don’t worry. I am okay, this room is more than enough for me. You just take good care of your wife and children, don't worry about me, knitting keeps me to live healthy”.

And the beautiful day also came, his family moved. Luxury apartment across the street. Before leaving, her sister-in-law also told:

-Elder sister, because of the children's learning conditions, we had to move away from you. I think, then you will also get old and weak… Or you close the door here, come live with your grandchildren and us, we are still together and we are not ridiculed by the neighbors for leaving you.

- Well, thank you sister-in-law. I'm used to it here, and I have to worship our parent on death anniversary.

- Well, I also know, where the children are, the parents stay there. You just come with us. There is a separate room for all…

-No, I'm used to it here, don’t worry. If I need anything, I will call you, if not, that's okay. Don't worry, I have a good life.

-But …

-It's okay, I say I'm living well, you guys can rest assured

The youngest brother heard his wife saying that and also joined in a sentence followed. She knew that. She swallowed her tears.

-Sister, sister-in-law just said, you don't agree to come with us, so if we don't come back and forth with you in the time of need, don't blame us.

- Yes, you know. I said I lived a good life. You can rest assured to do business, raise your children well, I'm happy. Their school worksare huge, don't worry that I am alone. I still have knitting work, I'm still busy with customers asking for this pattern, that pattern, I'm busier than you guys, rest assured go there, don't worry about me.

Seeing that she was so decisive, the youngest brother and his wife leaving quietly. They walked out of that alley, her heart filled with memory of her parents. She cried. Cold tears fell on knitted hands that had dark age spots. Long and short woolen yarns, red and blue ones followed with her tears falling like rain. That night she thought that it was the saddest night of her life. Even though she knew it was going to happen to her, sooner or later.

It was late winter at that time. That year, it poured more bitter cold than in previous years. She received many goods and could not knit all. That winter, her hair was as white as the white wools rolled under her feet. The winter she always remembered. The winter, she was forever separated from her brothers’ family, alone in a room filled with memories of the old days of her parents and brothers. That winter gave her a sense of loss. And she suddenly pressed her dry lips to hold back the tears. She suppressed the torment of memory for the affections and humiliation left by her parents.

Fortunately, that winter, so many people ordered, she knitted and crocheted all night, and the winter sadness also followed the cold waves. She forgot that winter. Forgot she once had a warm family. There used to be small happiness in the tiny room that contained so many of her hopes for a large biological family. She had hoped that no one would be able to part from this room because all the children were attached, loved each other, glued to each other, could not be separated.

She knew they wouldleave, they would leave her. She can't and would never be able to keep their families from staying with her in this cramped room. Her brothers are successful in everything, they have everything to spare. She thinksbecause of her that they have to go back to this room, because of her, they have to come back to this place. It should have been, without her, they'd be freer. They would sell this room off.

They move to other places that are much better, and they will forget what belongs here. Everything will go on without a trace. She still here, she still in this room, no matter what, they still have to remember to the place where their parents raised them. They can't leave, because she is still there everyday as the memory treasure keeper. The place where they had been attached to their loving childhood, where they were cherished like treasures, where they were sublimated from the care of their parents. So, if without her, well, if without her, surely, that room wouldn't exist anymore…thinking of that, she suppressed a sigh.

Once, her close brother came back to burn incense for her parents said “Sister, it is only in this house that I burn incense for parents, then I feel calm. Although the altar is old, the altar for parents is too small compared to the whole big room in my house. Hey, sister. Please stay and burn incense toour parents”. He bit his lip and cried and turned to walk out of the alley. It left a boundless space for her. The rolls of wool of different colors at her feet seemed to tangle together. The colors of wool rolls also made her dizzy.

Did not know how long she fell in that pile of woolen rolls. In that delirium she called her parents many times. In that delirium, the colors confused her eyes, making her eyelids seem to be closed, unable to open. Did not know how long she cried. And when she woke up, she knew the kind neighbor had helped her regain consciousness. Later, she knew that the person came to the room at the end of the alley to call her to a meeting of the neighborhood group. He kept calling but no one answered the door, so he called a few neighbors to help.

She wakes up and is grateful for kind neighbors.She swore to herself to try. Forget loneliness. Forget the pain always surrounds her. Forget about the siblings who still exist across the street. She will forget everything to live her life. And she suddenly realizes, for a long time she had been too dependent on them, dependent on unprecedenteddoctrines, and then got herself into that noose with no way out.

At present, definitely have to get out. Just like the tangled woolen rolls she have tountangle so many times to knit and crochet. She swore to her heart that she would not be subject to these and other tangles. She knits again. Scarfs, shirts, woolen hats of all colors, enough to fill the corner of the room. Orderers do not have to wait longer.

She goes out to the alley less often. There is a new apartment complex in front of the dormitory area. More people came. The life of the dormitory area is more vividly because many people, the market the front of her house has also become a big market with many goods. She receives more orders. One afternoon, due to the cool weather, she brings a bag of wool to the corner of the apartment block where the maid women of that area used to sit and chat, which she often came while knitting and chatting for fun.

Sitting in this corner gossiping to realize that the society is still in the same sad and happy scenes. She suddenly realized that she is still happy. There is nothing to be sad about. She already has a name Tan knitting that the whole apartment knows. They're new here, but they already know her. One person told the other and she is busy with all kinds of knitting clothes for the children and the old woman. Her work has no season.

Her fingers seeme to be concavedparroting. Her hands are also firmer because of constant work. She feels content with herself. She is content with her choice. Time goes so fast. Her hair is grayer, lost and thinner. Her eyes are also blurred. The color of wool makes her got astigmatism. Her room full of wool and the products she made. Her kitting fingers are so skilled that it does not even need to look at. It still hooks orderly one yarn to the other...