The story of the olive tree in rhymes
Author: Georgios Platanakis son of Konstantinos. Retired Merchant Marine Radio Operator. Farmer of Organic Koroneiki variety olive trees
The story of the olive tree in rhymes
Author: Georgios Platanakis son of Konstantinos. Retired Merchant Marine Radio Operator. Farmer of Organic Koroneiki variety olive trees
Spring’s morning and all nature, emits her precious musk,
flowers and trees have all now bloomed, even the humble shrub.
A cooling breeze scatters the scents away,
Intoxicating fragrances, fill creation all the way.
Birds chirping, building their nest,
Bees fill their feet with pollen, taking no rest.
Old οlive tree, bloomed on the cliff once more,
for how many years now, she doesn’t even recall.
Skinos who sprouted alone in the stream,
He watched her with envy, so bittering.
Because the human care for her, easily irritates,
man prunes her, fertilizes her, frequently irrigates.
And as for him, he is always scorned and only when they catch some colds,
humans uproot and take his logs.
He wonders why and wants to know; he turns to her for answers,
he doesn’t want to be deprived of all the caring chances.
Skinos
-Tell me, my neighbor Olive Tree, what is it you’ve accomplished,
Why humans feel for you so much, while I’m never acknowledged?
Olive Tree:
-Skinos, well natured neighbor, I know just what you mean, but as for human choices, I do not intervene.
I’ll tell you though, my history to know just who am I, to grasp the sense of who, you are, and not feel left aside.
I am a Holy, blessed Tree,
goddess Athena planted me.
On the rock of Acropolis, she fought victoriously,
against mighty Poseidon, god of the boundless sea.
Her name was given after all,
to Athens city, known by all.
As protector of the land, Athena was to stand,
And I the Holy Tree, was planted by her hand.
I symbolize kindness, wisdom and also peace,
protector of fertility and pregnancy with ease.
People have placed honor in me, no other would acquire,
And ever since the ancient times, I cease not, to inspire.
During the Olympic Games, athletes were crowned as winners,
using my branches and my leaves, to honor their achievements.
During Panathenaic Games, they used to gift my oil,
using a vase to bring the prize to those who gave their all.
It’s on the tetradrachm of Glafka as they call it,
you’ll see Athena, and the Owl and my leaves, that adorn it.
You will admire my image still, on Euro coin today,
couple of leaves, an olive tree, honor me to this day.
Since ancient times, it is in me, artists found inspirations,
older and younger ones alike, in all their aspirations.
(Photo by Classical Numismatic Group, Inc., CC BY-SA 3.0)
Poets have praised and praise me still,
painters, gave colored paintings, conveying my feel.
Walls of the ancient palaces and amphorae and vases,
depicting images of me, in all my magic phases.
My leaves, my fruits, my oil, as one,
was buried with the loved, when gone.
During their libations towards the Chthonic deities,
Minoans always used to use, their olive oil and olives.
(Photo: Fresco detail of the Sacred Grove and dance- Knossos, Neopalatial Period)
In Kato Zakros, there were found, inside the Palace well,
centuries - old Minoan fruits of olive, preserved well.
It was quite deep, because its deep where earthquakes occur,
and when too often reoccur, they give people a scare.
The Chthonic deity was asked that she’d never allow,
more catastrophic earthquakes to shake again the ground.
Alas, Thera erupts once more,
and Crete was gone, from shore to shore.
The Minoans were to be lost, from one end to the other,
Chania to Kato Zakros, gone, were never to recover.
(Photo: Cup full of olives, with their skin preserved (!) because of the humidity in the ground. Found in a built well of the central courtyard of the Minoan Palace in Kato Zakros.)
How to engraft and cultivate to give me care that suits,
and how to extract the oil, from my ever-giving fruits,
Aristae was taught those practices by Nymphs,
to pass people the knowledge, applied to their fields.
Aristae went and traveled, visited many lands,
taught people how to cultivate, using their very hands.
He had discovered how to press my olive fruits, and then,
he showed it to the people, all knowledge shared with them.
People learned from Aristae those ways devotedly,
they managed to achieve progress and to develop greatly.
And from a trough made of stone, a basin made of clay,
in which they used to pound the olive fruit away,
They passed over to millstones, in buckets made of reeds
they got to modern ways; I think you caught a glimpse...
(Photo: Mr Georgios Platanakis in the Olive Mill of the Agricultural Cooperative of Zakros)
The continuation of the story: Olive Tree like a fairytale | Part 2
Meet the author and olive oil producer mr. Georgios Platanakis
