Greek goddess dies, 67

Le Křenek du jour says:

You open a browser window.
A train hits you head-on, at full speed, all four thousand tons of it.
This just happened to me, and in the most improbable place of all: here.
Αγγελική. No more. Nevermore.

After the first of our many encounters, forty-odd years ago, she made me a parting gift: « Le parti pris des choses », by her favourite French poet, Francis Ponge.
Ponge writes that a tree, if asked about its nature, would only make leaves.
I wish I could produce leaves; phrases seem devoid of meaning right now.

In Angélique’s own words, her account of her decisive first meeting with the poet she set to music like no other: Odysseas Elytis.
https://www.cairn.info/revue-la-pensee-de-midi-2009-2-page-30.htm
Elytis was her guiding star, the poetry of his words congenially transported by the poetry of her music. Not the only one, mind: Seferis, Ritsos, Cavafy, the poets of the modern Greek tongue live up through her music. So does, among the ancients, Sappho.

If you can find it, listen to her own version of ‘mikri prasini thalassa’, Little Green Sea, by Elytis (issued on her second record, I Palami Sou, in 1979, when she was just twenty-five). The Manos Hadjidakis version, far better known, is pure Hadjidakis, and splendid.
Angélique’s version is pure Elytis, and true.

Listen to her guitar, which could conjure gale-force whirlwinds.
You’d never imagine such elemental power in such a slender, diminutive, fragile frame.

Κομμάτια πέτρες τά λόγια τῶν Θεῶν
Κομμάτια πέτρες τ’ἀποσπάσματα τοῦ Ἡράκλειτου
Broken stones, the words of the gods
Broken stones, the Fragments of Herakleitos

The memory of her is now like the foam of the sea.
Ever renewed, forever beyond grasp.
My sadness, despite the above, is beyond words.