He studied Pedagogy, Special Education and Greek Culture. He has specialized in the education of children with mental retardation and multiple disabilities - brain paralysis and has worked in special education schools. He taught at the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, at teacher training seminars and workshops: Literature, Poetry Teaching and Creative Writing. He is president of the Authors' Association of Thessaloniki. He published poems, essays, scientific articles, and books for children. His poems have been translated into English, Slavmacedonian, Italian, Spanish and have been included in anthologies in Greece and abroad.

 More about author: 

Poetry Collections

— The time of spring, 1983

— The road’s neon, 1987

— The tears of Polyphemus, 1992

— The memory of the silence, 1995,

— POEMS 1979-1995, 2000

— Grana, 2007

— The ballads of easy-to-use things, 2017

— Acherousia the sea, 2019

—The strays of the imaginary line, 2019


—Aqueronte, 2022 (Spanish edition)


Books for children:

— Dragonfly, 1997

— World say our court, 2000

— A thousand myths a lettuce, 2000

— The goblins who lost the road, 2000

— Myths from the myths of Lafontaine (2 volumes), 2001

— Tufas in the Great Forest, 2003

— The gang of PUR PAS, 2006

—"Why opposite? 2013‎

— My new legs, 2015



Vangelis Tasiopoulos

Anoixeos 2

57010 Pefka Thessaloniki


+30 2310674460  +30 6974869479

Email: vaggelis.tasiopoulos@gmail.com

Date of birth:  1959
Birth place:  Meligalas
Abstract text: 


Phorcyna’s God

before every dream would look at the water

and say

about the big tree

that supposedly it started from the soul

and rose up to the aspirate stress in the sky

in the winter vigils he would say

children get together blowing the conch

and opening their eyes to the ocean

to see the colour of Ithaca

the highest would even remember the poet

who would confess his blood

here the crafty one awoke

here the silver of the olive-tree illuminated him

However, despite all searches God couldn’t find the King


the King is everywhere

small and immense Nobody

lurks at midnight in Polyphemus’s tear

who can’t see his black body

Then a small girl would come

she would take him by the hand

can you hear the sea? She’d ask him

we must go there

you shouldn’t

play with my body only at midnight

there there dare the dreams

there we must go.

(The tears of Polyphemus, 1992) Translated by M. Byron Raizis

(Φόρκυνος δέ τίς ἐστι λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος, ἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης‧ (ΟΔΥΣΣΕΙΑ, ν 96-97) (There is in the country of Ithaca the port of Phorcyna, the elder of the sea; (ODYSSEY, n 96-97)





Amongst the gods squawk seagulls of the Aegean Sea

the rub their beaks in the rust of history

they linger for a while on the tiers

then off they go again towards the ruins of the ancient republic.

In my hands I hold ordinary materials

some potsherds of letters

useful names as prey for the salt and wind.

I have no wounds

what survived was the wrong end on the ship

the bitterness of the highlander stoker

with the scribble and the anguish in words

the Easter that passed.

Convives by now

they lay sails on the sea and empty clothes

to provide footing for bare feet

near seaweeds and coastal fish.

You say I should repose

I should restore the nepenthes

just for the sake of the dead

their bubbles to find

in anapests songs shared.

Yet the highlander’s shadow

is now laying on us heavy,

looms over us

as god and acrobat seagull

that builds with light earthly heavens.

The ancient marbles remained

expensive dormitories of the reptiles

an image transparent in the merchant’s brew

as if god had no species

as if from the sea you couldn’t see the stars.


 (Acherusia the sea, 2019) ) translation, Manos Apostolidis



Giunse in bicicletta, fanciullina nel suo splendore, tutta grazia e felicità. Nel profumo della voluttà si scandalizzarono gli assennati vegliardi. La sua nudità si trastullò con la luce mentre la proteggeva con la mano destra penetrando nella densa vegetazione. La bellezza abbreviava l’effetto dell’elisir. Lucertole e verdechiari volatili sopra i marmi. Nei suoi occhi il mondo senza finestre. Ancora una volta Melpomene lasciò la sua nudità affluire nell’abbazia. Tempi mondani immortalavano la polvere che emergeva, quando la magnificenza era contenuta nella sua minima apprensione: diventar ciò che non era. Così ritualmente sollevò il rotabile e prese la strada verso il mare. Candida sembianza nei sogni. Ambigua e santa nell’interminabile paradiso.

Traduzione in Italiano di Crescenzio Sangiglio



Antiguamente, la fiesta era nada más hombres y animales. Aromas confundidos con el que sale primero de la chamusquina. Habían encontrado maneras de socavar la impiedad y de que cupiesen plazos en la iglesia como compensación. Como mucho se abrían las fuentes y veías los cambios apresurados y las súbitas señales de cabeza en lo extraño de la imprudencia. Entonces, los címbalos llamearon por si salvaban algo. Los jefes hacían circular sus sombras entre los fieles y tendían mano de amistad a sus aterradas víctimas. Eucaliptos, silencio y yo azul. Inspeccionaba los fosos desbordados, las cosas misteriosas de la prosperidad. Siglos antes la dote se mantenía. La seguridad por la excesiva sensibilidad era más reciente, creación de los tiempos. La cal ocultaba las huellas de los sacrificios y la prohibición era concisa: pisa, puesto que se seca.

Y la idea queda en blanco por completo

Que quieras rasgar no sea que encuentres

El caos y laambivalencia

Lo que sucede y no lo que construyes

Como los cachorros en las hendiduras de las piedras

  • En las paredes encontré siempre con el tacto

Mi pasado y el futuro.


(Fiesta, entonces, recuerdo matutino.

Se escuchó llegar el viento del sudoeste

Arrepentido en su calma voluptuosa.)


Traducción Española :José Antonio Moreno Jurado

E-mail:  vaggelis.tasiopoulos@gmail.com