Natalie Katsou was born in Athens in 1982. She studied Law and Theatre Studies in the University of Athens and Acting in “Delos Drama School”, as well as foreign languages and piano.
In 2006 she founded the Theatre Group “En Spoudi” and had her début as a playwright and a director in the Experimental Scene of the National Theatre of Greece. She continued working with her group until 2009, on her own play “Elisabeth, a spirit on fire” and on the poetic monologues by Angeliki Sigourou on the performance “the play will be non-stop”. She has also worked as an Assistant Director with George Kimoulis and Stathis Livathinos.
On November 2008 her first collection of poems “Magodos” was published by Kastaniotis Publ. and was nominated for the “Reading Literature Prize 2009”. Her poems have been published in various literary magazines in Greece: “Poetry”, “poetica”, “Diki”, “dekata” and the e-zines “e-poema” and “poeticanet.gr”. Her last play “flying asparagus”, recently translated in English, will be on stage soon, and her translation on Sylvia Plath / Sarah Kane is under publ. On September 2010 she came in London for her Theatre Directing MA Course in East15 and come what may.
The sun peels cinereous
His sense drips flames
Over sea
Before the nightingale weeds
Feathers left over on its back and
Feet
In that fragment of the stars;
Black and yellow butterflies hitch their voices on the rocks
Women gone hunting at dawn cut their hair
Throw them in the river
The locks become water lilies and the women fishes
and moments
laying on them
the moment evades again under cutting scales
fresh stars
dances
desperate hand
dancing into the stone
it is not me; waiting; a minute later
it’s late
now
drowned
the petal
dry/ tearing or yellow/splits
in the unseen seam
light light
lightning
(From the collection Magodos, 2008)
Olive tree
Olive tree
Standing in the past
Rooted upon a mask
God of winds shaking
The tree heels to Caucasus
Welcoming more gods
Nightingales perching
Among psyches and moths
turning into ravens
Oceans tending to sooth
The dry sand beneath
Olive tree is thirsty
A wandering monk
Disbranching in wisdom
Diffusing olives to his queen
A child turpentines
His name on the bark
A cry splits the tree
Its shadow falling
Preceding
A pigeon snatches three leaves
(May 2011)
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Poetry in this post: © Natalie Katsou
Published with the permission of Natalie Katsou