Σε γνωρίζω από την κόψη
Του σπαθιού την τρομερή,
Σε γνωρίζω από την όψη,
Που με βιά μετράει τη γη.
Απ’ τα κόκκαλα βγαλμένη
Των Ελλήνων τα ιερά,
𝄆 Και σαν πρώτα ανδρειωμένη,
Χαίρε, ω χαίρε, ελευθεριά! 𝄇
Εκεί μέσα εκατοικούσες
πικραμένη, εντροπαλή,
κι ένα στόμα ακαρτερούσες,
«έλα πάλι», να σου πει.
Άργειε να 'λθει ήταν όλα σιωπηλά,
𝄆 γιατί τά 'σκιαζε η φοβέρα
και τα πλάκωνε η σκλαβιά. 𝄇
Δυστυχής! Παρηγορία
μόνη σου έμενε να λες
περασμένα μεγαλεία
και διηγώντας τα να κλαις.
Και ακαρτέρει, και ακαρτέρει
φιλελεύθερη λαλιά,
𝄆 ένα εκτύπαε τ’ άλλο χέρι
από την απελπισιά. 𝄇
Κι έλεες: «πότε, α! πότε βγάνω
το κεφάλι από τσ' ερμιές;»
Και αποκρίνοντο από πάνω
κλάψες, άλυσες, φωνές.
Τότε εσήκωνες το βλέμμα
μες στα κλάιματα θολό,
𝄆 και εις το ρούχο σου έσταζ’ αίμα,
πλήθος αίμα Ελληνικό. 𝄇
|
Se ghnorízo apó tin kópsi
Tu spathiú tin tromerí,
Se ghnorízo apó tin ópsi,
Pu me viá metrái ti ghi.
Ap’ ta kókkala vghalméni
Ton Ellínon ta ierá,
𝄆 Ke san próta andhrioméni,
Hére, o hére, eleftheriá! 𝄇
Ekí mésa ekatikúses
pikraméni entropalí,
ki éna stóma akarterúses,
"éla páli", na su pi.
Árgie ná'lthi ekíni i méra,
ki ítan óla siopilá,
𝄆 ghiatí tá 'skiaze i fovéra
ke ta plákone i sklaviá. 𝄇
Dystychís! Parigoría
móni su émene na les
perasména megalía
ke diigóntas ta na kles.
Ke akartéri ke akartéri
fileléftheri laliá,
𝄆 éna ektýpae t’ állo héri
apó tín apelpisiá. 𝄇
Ki élees: póte, á! póte vgháno
to kefáli apó ts' ermiés;
Ke apokrínonto apó páno
klápses, ályses, fonés.
Tóte esíkones to vlémma
mes sta kláimata tholó,
𝄆 ke is to rúcho su éstaz’ éma,
plíthos éma ellinikó. 𝄇
|
[se‿ɣno.ˈɾi.zo‿a.ˈpo tiŋ ˈɡop.si]
[tu spaθ.ˈçu tin dɾo.me.ˈɾi |]
[se‿ɣno.ˈɾi.zo‿a.ˈpo tin ˈop.si |]
[pu me ˈvja me.ˈtɾai̯ ti ˈʝi ‖]
[ap ta ˈko.ka.la‿vɣal.ˈme.ni]
[ton e.ˈli.non da‿i̯.e.ˈɾa |]
𝄆 [ˈce sam ˈbɾo.ta anð.ɾjo.ˈme.ni |]
[ˈçe.ɾe‿o ˈçe.ɾe | e.lef.θeɾ.ˈja ‖] 𝄇
[e.ˈci ˈme.sa‿e.ka.ti.ˈku.ses]
[pi.kra.ˈme.ni‿en.tɾo.pa.ˈli |]
[ˈc‿e.na ˈsto.m‿a.kaɾ.te.ˈɾu.ses |]
[ˈe.la ˈpa.li | na su pi ‖]
[ˈaɾ.ʝe ˈnal.θ(i)‿e.ˈci.n‿i ˈme.ra |]
[ˈce‿i.tan ˈo.la sjo.pi.ˈla |]
𝄆 [ʝa.ˈti ta 'scja.ze‿i fo.ˈve.ɾa]
[ce ta ˈpla.ko.ne‿i sklav.ˈja ‖] 𝄇
[ðis.ti.ˈçis ‖ pa.ɾi.ɣo.ˈɾi.a]
[ˈmo.ni ˈsu‿e.me.ne na les]
[pe.ɾa.ˈzme.na me.ɣa.ˈli.a]
[ce di.ˈɣon.tas ta na kles ‖]
[c‿a.kar.ˈte.ɾi | c‿a.kar.ˈte.ɾi]
[fi.le.ˈlef.θe.ɾi la.ˈlja |]
𝄆 [ˈe.na‿ek.ˈti.pae̯ ˈt‿a.lo ˈçe.ɾi]
[a.ˈpo tin a.pel.pi.ˈsja ‖] 𝄇
[ˈc‿e.les | ˈpo.t‿a ‖ ˈpo.te‿ˈvɣa.no]
[to ce.ˈfa.li‿a.ˈpo ts‿er.ˈmjes |]
[c‿a.po.ˈkri.non.to‿a.ˈpo ˈpa.no]
[ˈklap.ses | ˈa.li.ses | fo.ˈnes ‖]
[ˈto.t‿e.ˈsi.ko.nes to ˈvle.ma]
[mes sta ˈklaj.ma.ta ˈθo.lo |]
𝄆 [c(e)‿is to ˈru.xo ˈsu‿es.taz ˈe.ma |]
[ˈpli.θos ˈe.ma(‿)e.li.ni.ˈko ‖] 𝄇
|
We knew thee of old,
O, divinely restored,
By the lights of thine eyes,
And the light of thy Sword.
From the graves of our slain,
Shall thy valor prevail,
𝄆 as we greet thee again,
Hail, Liberty! Hail! 𝄇
Long time didst thou dwell
Mid the peoples that mourn,
Awaiting some voice
That should bid thee return.
Ah, slow broke that day
And no man dared call,
𝄆 For the shadow of tyranny
Lay over all: 𝄇
Yet, behold now thy sons
With impetuous breath
𝄆 Go forth to the fight
Seeking Freedom or Death. 𝄇
And we saw thee sad-eyed,
The tears on thy cheeks
𝄆 While thy raiment was dyed
In the blood of the Greeks. 𝄇
|
I know you from the blade
Of the sword, the terrifying [blade],
I know you from the appearance,
Which, with force, measures the world.
From the bones taken out
Of the Greeks' sanctuaries,
𝄆 And as the first brave ones,
Rejoice, oh rejoice, liberty! 𝄇
There in you were living
bitter, ashamed,
And a mouth you were awaiting,
"Come again", should it tell you.
Late came that day,
And it was all silent,
𝄆 Because the bullying was overshadowing them
And the slavery was oppressing them. 𝄇
Unhappy one! Consolation
Alone was staying to tell you
Past greatnesses
And narrating them to mourn.
And it was awaiting, and it was awaiting
Freedom-loving speech.
𝄆 One hand strikes the other
Out of the hopelessness. 𝄇
And you were saying: when, oh when do I get
My head out of these lonely places?
And answering from above were
Cries, chains, voices.
Then you were raising your glance
Into the tears, blurry.
𝄆 And into the clothing of yours was dripping blood,
A lot of Greek blood. 𝄇
|
