VINTAGE AND WINE

WITH THREE POEMS OF

CONSTANTINE P. CAVAFY

    In the Greek world September, the month of vintage, is also referred to as (O trigitìs) “the vintager”. Vintage begins and ends with a series of celebrations and practices most of which date back to very ancient times.

    In the old days in Eastern Thrace, the peasants picked grapes all day to the tunes played on traditional musical instruments. Each vineyard had its own group of musicians. At day's end when the grape-gatherers went back home with songs and music, found a well-laden table waiting for them. This merry feasting continued till midnight and the day after everybody had to be back in the vineyards.

    On the first vintage day, the grape-gatherers in the rural community called Sarànda Ekllisiès, in Thrace, used to assemble in an open place wearing masks and dancing till midnight. In Roumeli, when the vintage starts, friends, relatives and neighbors, all lend a hand to the vineyard-owner pick the grapes, expecting no other recompense but a few grapes. According to old customs,  the vineyard-owner roasts a whole lamb on a pit for the grape-gatherers and when he dismisses them at night, he fills their hampers with bunches of grapes. It is also a habitual custom to bestow grapes on whomever happens to pass by the vineyard that day.

    The trampling of the grapes is carried out in the vineyards where special wine presses are supplied. The trampling of the grapes is always performed by me because the vine growers believe that if women did it, the wine would turn vinegary.

    In the region of Thrace the last day of the vintage constitutes also an opportunity for the population to let themselves go to the celebration of great festivities. The last bunches of grapes are tossed into a big farm cart drawn by buffaloes. The cart can contain as many as 500 lbs of grapes. The buffaloes are crowned with garlands of wild flowers and the vintagers’ baskets are hung at the side of the cart. The cart, thus bedecked, departs from the village, followed by young women ornamented with flowers and singing. The musicians follow at the end of the cheery procession.

 

    In Roumeli, in Central Greece, when the time comes for the wine to be poured into the barrels, the vineyard owner invites the priest to come to his vineyard and read a special prayer. He removes the spigot, fills a glass with must and offers it to the priest to be blessed. In return, the priest, receives one or two kilos of must. A few weeks later, usually on St. Demetrius’ Day (October 26th), when it is time to open the barrels, the priest is asked to come over again to bless the casks. As soon as he has done so, a rubber tube is inserted into the barrel, and the first draught of new wine is drawn to the cries of “many happy returns of the day”.

We would now like to present

the friends of  “Hellenismos”

with three poems of

Constantine P. Cavafy,

in which the word “wine” appears.

The extraordinary English translation is of Rae Dalven.

 

DIONYSUS AND HIS CREW

Damon the artisan (there is no one more

capable in the Peloponnese) carves the crew

of Dionysus in Parian marble.

At the head, the God in sublime glory,

with power in his walk.

Acratos follows him. Besides Acratos,

Methe pours the wine for the Satyrs

out of an ivy-wreathed amphora.

Near them is Hedyoinos, the soft one,

his eyes half-shut, heavy with sleep.

Behind them come the singers

Molpos and Hedymeles, and Comus who holds

The revered torch of the procession and

never lets it go out; and most diffident Telete. –   

These Daman carves. And along with these,

every so often his mind deliberates

on his fee from the king of Syracuse,

three talents, a goodly sum.

When this is added to the rest of his money,

Then he can live in style, grandly, like a man of means,

And he will be able to go into politics – joy! –

he too in the senate, he too in the market place.

(1907)

 

I WENT

I did not tether myself. I let go entirely and went,

I went into the luminous night,

to  those pleasures that were half real,

and half wheeling in my brain.

And I drank of potent wines, as only the

valiant of voluptuousness drink.

 (1913) 

 

 

 

FAVOR OF ALEXANDER BALAS

O, I am not upset that a wheel of my chariot

is broken, and I have lost a foolish victory.

I will spend the night with fine wines

and amid lovely roses. Antioch belongs to me.

I am the young man most glorified.

I am Balas’s weakness, his adored one.

Tomorrow, you’ll see, they’ll say that the contest was unfair.

(But if I were coarse, and had ordered it in secret–

the flatterers would have voted first prize even to my crippled chariot.)

 (1921)

 

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

National Tourist Organization of Greece, Information Department, Greek Tradition, Athens s. d.

C. P. CAVAFY, The Complete Poems of C, P, Cavafy, translated by Rae Dalven, New York 1961

DIMITRIOS LOUKATOS, Introduction to Greek Folklore (in Greek), Athens 1978