Protesilaos Stavrou

Interpretation of “Perseids” by Miltos Paschalidis

For today’s entry I have picked a song from the rich repertoire of songmaker Miltos Paschalidis. The title is Perseids: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLO6ncUK9Bw.

The Perseids is a shower of star dust that is visible from the night sky of Greece/Cyprus some time during mid August. I have observed the phenomenon a couple of times. It is spectacular! Though the song I am about to comment on is about a person’s inertia, even in the face of such special events.

Below are the original lyrics, my faithful translation of them, and further commentary. Also check my other “interpretation” involving Miltos Paschalidis: Tale with sad ending (2024-11-20).

Περσείδες

Ερμηνεία:  Μίλτος Πασχαλίδης
Στίχοι:    Μίλτος Πασχαλίδης
Μουσική:   Μίλτος Πασχαλίδης


Πάνω στο μπράτσο χάραξε η μέρα μιαν ευχή
για το χορό που στήσανε στ'αστέρια οι Περσείδες
Τη νύχτα που ξαγρύπνησες μονάχη στο σκαλί
τον ουρανό σου χάρισαν μα πάλι δε τον είδες

Δε πέφτουνε χρυσάφι μου τα κάστρα με ευχές
μήτε ξυπνούν τα όνειρα στις μαύρες τις οθόνες
Δεν ξεγελούν τον ίσκιο τους οι μοναχές καρδιές
φτιάχνουν χαρμάνι λησμονιάς μα ξημερώνουν μόνες

Ανοίγω τα χέρια μου
που όλο τον κόσμο χώρεσαν
μα τώρα πια χωράνε
μόνο εσένα

Στο μπράτσο η μέρα χάραξε με πείσμα κι αντοχή
δυο κρίνα φεγγαρόλουστα που φύτρωσαν στη πέτρα
Μη μου ζητάς να σ'αρνηθώ ζωή μου και πληγή
μέχρι να μου τελειώσουνε τα βέλη στη φαρέτρα

Ανοίγω τα χέρια μου
που όλο τον κόσμο χώρεσαν
μα τώρα πια χωράνε
μόνο εσένα

Perseids

Singers:  Miltos Paschalidis
Lyrics:   Miltos Paschalidis
Music:    Miltos Paschalidis


The day etched a wish on the arm
for the dance the Perseids set up in the stars
The night you stayed awake alone at the stair
they offered you the sky but you did not see it again

Castles do not fall with wishes my gold
neither do dreams wake up on black screens
The lone hearts do not fool their shadow
they make a forgetfulness blend but find dawn alone

I open my arms
that fit in the whole world
but now only fit in
you alone

The day etched on the arm with grit and endurance
two moonbathed lilies that sprung on the stone
Do not ask me to reject you my life and wound
until I run out of arrows in the quiver

I open my arms
that fit in the whole world
but now only fit in
you alone

I understand this song as a description of complacency and self-inflicted helplessness; of wishing for some eventuality and of claiming to strongly prefer it while remaining in the habit of doing nothing towards its realisation, not even when the opportunity arises.

Sometimes the effort takes place but is halfhearted and thus too little to make a difference. It can be such that the person misses even the Perseids, this magnificent shower of gold pouring down from the heavens; a spectacle for which the poetic “you” had stayed up all night to bear witness to.

These indecisive half-measures only reinforce the sense of helplessness. They seem to confirm the feeling that every attempt at change is futile. Though this is a self-fulfilling prophecy of not trying in earnest and of eventually discovering that the results are discouraging.

The poetic “you” is likely limited in their choices by edifices that are thoroughly breakable, even if they do not appear to be such. It so happens that those allegorical castles are nothing but flimsy shanties, yet are impressed as unassailable fortresses in the mind of those who are not in the flow of trying hard enough.

The helpless person of the sort here considered eventually identifies with this way of life. “It is who I am”, they might say, and all but beg to be rejected. The longing for rejection becomes a form of self-realisation and the moral high ground upon which one’s victimhood is established.

If loneliness is genuinely bothersome, if it is what one seeks to escape from, then they must struggle to undo it with everything available at their disposal: fight down to the last arrow and then some. It is this unwillingness to give up—this desire to try with every ounce of one’s strength—that carries the potential to leave indelible marks and to ultimately bring about the wish of two lilies jointly bathing in the moonlight.

The poet acknowledges that a lover is not pure bliss. It is a wound in potentiality just as it adds meaning to one’s life. It is the recognition of this mixed reality that we find throughout Greek culture from antiquity to modernity, of nothing being purely good or bad. It is why, for the sake of limiting this to contemporary music, we have the traditional song from Heperus that speaks of one’s love as “my ruin” (Χαλασιά μου). It may be affectionate yet retains the notion of happiness bundled up together with destruction:

Implied in this nuanced understanding of the cosmos is the view that love involves courage. It is not easy. Inertia can be comfortable, sometimes to a fault. It then is a matter of figuring out what one truly wants and of having the honesty to act accordingly. Is the poetic “you” prepared to experience this imperfect reality of love or are they content with how they are and do not want to change anything?

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