MARTHA VASKANTIRA
Biography
Martha Vaskantira was born in 02/09/1977 in Greece, in the city of Patras. She studied Philology and Philosophy. She is involved in theater and music. She appeared in letters in the year 1996 with the publication of poems in literary magazines. A total of ten of her books have been published. Six poetry collections
and four fairy tales. Her poems have also been dramatized in performances by theater groups in Athens and Patras. She is a member of the International Society of Greek Writers-Artists (D.E.E.L.), UNESCO of Greece, the Society of Greek Writers (E.E.L.), the Greek Cypriot Cultural Group (E.P.O.K.) as well as representative of the group in the city of Patras.
In September 2022, she won first prize for writing the theatrical monologue "Peace and the Child" at the International Peace Cultural Olympiad held in Delphi.
In the performance "The children of Greece" which was presented in many cities of Greece and concerns the life and work of the great creators and artists, Mimi Traiforou-Sofias Vembo, the one-act play by Martha Vaskantira entitled "The child and the peace''. The direction is by Vassilis Traiforos and Penelope Chalkia. The monologue was performed by Penelope Halkia.
Some of her poems have been translated into English, Spanish, Turkish, Arabic, Hindi. Polish, Albanian and in Korean.
Her poems are included in Poetry anthologies and Cultural Magazines in several countries abroad.
In 2022, the newspaper "Peloponnisos" proposed her to be a candidate for the persons of the year 2022.
She was nominated by the writer and poet, Mrs. Eva Lianou Petropoulou (a candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize), for the international award "Dr. Fco Xavier Ramirez Sanchez" and for the "Platinum Eagle award".
In January 2025, she was awarded 1st place in poetry, in the Greek category, in the International Literary Competition held in Kazakhstan in poetry and prose, in various languages. The president of the jury was the writer and poet, Mr. Dimitris Kraniotis.
HOLD ME
Do not leave me…
Hold me… in the impasse that I am in…
And if my leaves fall,
you do not let them cut my trunk.
And if all is lost around us,
you always to exist.
You must exist,
for become zero the darkness.
And if my thoughts turn yellow over the years,
give to me the ink of your love
to bring my fairy tales to life ..
How small is this world!
Does not fit the open windows of your soul.
Spring grows on your fingertips.
Your hands, gardens hanging in the desert,
two magicians in eternity…
Hold me.
Be here ..
Always be here.
To hear the good morning in the world ..
Humanity and the child
Our century was handcuffed.
Fortune tellers sell out vision for a few more oracles,
the arenas became virtual,
laughter was sold to the clown of habit,
and humanity is looking for a good shirt to look beautiful.
Slaves dream.
The deposits of the ideals are money transferred
stacked behind arrogant, ambitious mirrors.
The Pontius Pilate forgot their hands in the sea,
and humanity wonders why it doesn’t fit in its own shoes.
Hypocrisy redeemed the light of freedom,
The years, hunched, go by without rise in their gait,
and humanity looks out of the window at its life going by.
A child hung his crib on the tank that burned his city,
playing next to death without fear.
A child the country, a child the earth, a child the universe,
undressed the war.
And love smiled.
Now humanity can leave its home again
Martha Vaskandira
Translation: Elias Nassiopoulos
Η ΑΝΘΡΩΠΟΤΗΤΑ ΚΑΙ ΤΟ ΠΑΙΔΙ (ποίηση)
Ο αιώνας δέθηκε χειροπόδαρα.
Οι μάντεις ξεπουλάνε το όραμα για λίγους χρησμούς παραπάνω.
Οι αρένες έγιναν εικονικές πραγματικότητες.
Το γέλιο πουλήθηκε στο παλιάτσο της συνήθειας.
Και η ανθρωπότητα ψάχνει το καλό της πουκάμισο για να είναι όμορφη.
Οι σκλάβοι ονειρεύονται.
Οι καταθέσεις των ιδανικών μεταφέρονται με χρηματαποστολές.
Στοιβάζονται πίσω από αλαζονικούς, φιλόδοξους καθρέφτες.
Οι Πόντιοι Πιλάτοι ξέχασαν τα χέρια τους στη θάλασσα.
Κι η ανθρωπότητα αναρωτιέται γιατί δε χωράει στα παπούτσια της.
Η υποκρισία εξαγόρασε το φως της ελευθερίας.
Τα χρόνια σκυφτά προχωρούν χωρίς ανατολή στο βάδισμά τους.
Κι η ανθρωπότητα κοιτάζει απ’ το παράθυρο τη ζωή της.
Ένα παιδί κρέμασε τη κούνια του στο τανκ που έκαψε τη πόλη του.
Παίζει δίπλα απ’ το θάνατο χωρίς να φοβάται.
Ένα παιδί όλη η χώρα, όλη η γη κι όλο το σύμπαν.
Ξεγύμνωσε το πόλεμο.
Η αγάπη χαμογέλασε.
Τώρα η ανθρωπότητα μπορεί να βγει απ’ το σπίτι της.
Μάρθα Βασκαντήρα
CONFESSION OF AN ANGEL
Η ΟΜΟΛΟΓΙΑ ΕΝΟΣ ΑΓΓΕΛΟΥ
(An antiwar poem dedicated to all angels lost in vain)
Black birds unfold their shrieks.
Warning of solitude and death in a place where dawn is always dark.
Naked hands wash death in the river.
So white they are, so innocent...
Like bloomed lillies in the river banks that leaned forward to kiss the dead bodies of the Angels that doll its waters.
They spew wars out in the seas of the silver bullet.
A journey full of tears in the delta of hell.
Hawks spread their wings.
Their shadow buried love in the caves.
Swallowed chilren’s laughter.
Mother stands in the rain.
She is holding the Spring flower.
Too soon, it was picked.
Her eyes, black oceans full of sunken worlds.
Her three-year old boy, wiser from the pain and curse of its people, touched eternity.
His words like Bethleem stars that will never set.
Loud in her ears, slowly, painfully, curve the mind and uproot the body.
The soul kneels in front of their Holy gaze.
‘’Mama, when I go up, I will tell everything to God’’.
The miracle yealded.
Martha Vaskandira
Translation: Dora Douva