Welcome to Athens, the city where a special poet was born who loves to remember that no matter what you say, but how you say it. Its name meaning “virgin’s apartment”: the Parthenon epitomises the glory of Ancient Greece, and it’s dedicated to the goddess embodying the prestige of the city. The Acropolis? It stands sentinel over Athens, visible from almost everywhere within the city. Tired? Fresh food, an open kitchen and David Bowie on the soundtrack. This may be the your ideal restaurant. Dishes can look simple, but the flavour is incomparable. You need to go early (or book ahead), because Seychelles Restaurant http://www.seycheles.gr/en it’s deservedly popular.
The simplicity of words and the expression linearity, give his poetry a aforismatica force. Through the renewal of linguistic forms, he creates a poem studded with learned quotations, demonstrating how renewal must take into account a glorious, pregnant and evocative tradition. One of the nuclei of his poetic production, is the link between the object and its name, with the exploration of the semantics and the power of the sound of the language. ANTONIS FOSTIERIS is one of the eminent poets of the so-called Generation of the Seventies (Greek authors who began publishing their work during the 1970s).
He is a Greek poet, born Athens 1953. ANTONIS FOSTIERIS studied Law at the University of Athens and History of Law at Sorbonne, Paris. Reading his poetic words, you to can discover that his poetry is multilayered, always rich in intertextual references. He builds his vocal structures across the collection as a whole. His poetic quest is melted language clarity and intimacy. Through a dense poetic language, he seeks to outline a view of life. For him the problem of poetic expression it’s always simple: “it does not matter what you say, but how you say it”.
NOSTALGIA OF THE PRESENT – I long for the present that I will live, the wait fits in with the memory. Both falsify this more than the unfortunate reality. You see it. Which events will affect my participation again? What colorful rag of passion will you imitate purple again? It amazes me at what speed boredom is generated. If I knew the mathematics of feelings I would run motionless like Achilles (the idea of Zeno), slower than the turtle of my life. We must not be in a hurry. How dare you overtake with the horn, when in front of you the underworld are bottled. How can I predict anything that happens, in this present so remote.
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