Why did you
choose the title Silence
Will Remain Unscathed? What does it mean for silence to remain “unscathed”?
I chose the
title Silence Will Remain
Unscathed because, to me,
silence is one of the few things that life cannot truly wound.
Words can be
misunderstood. People can betray us. Dreams can change, and memories may fade.
But silence has a remarkable resilience. It survives every disappointment,
every loss, every transformation. It remains untouched because it doesn't need
to defend itself or explain its existence. As a poet, I have always believed
that silence is not the absence of words. It is a language of its own. It is
where emotions mature before they become poems. It is where truth often speaks
more honestly than noise ever can.
The title
reflects a deeply personal realization: no matter what happens around us, there
is an inner place within every human being that can remain intact. For me,
silence is that place. It is not emptiness, it is strength, reflection, and
sometimes even hope. This book was born from that space.
Is silence
in your poems a refuge, a wound, a form of resistance, or something else
entirely?
I don't
believe silence can be defined by just one word. In my poetry, silence is
sometimes a refuge, a place where the soul can breathe without being judged. At
other times, it becomes a wound, carrying the weight of words that were never
spoken or feelings that could never find a voice. But silence is also a quiet
form of resistance. In a world that constantly demands explanations, opinions,
and noise, choosing silence can be an act of strength. It allows us to listen
more deeply to ourselves, to others, and to life itself.
For me,
silence is not passive. It is alive. It transforms, heals, questions, and
reveals. Every poem in this collection explores a different face of silence,
because human emotions are never one-dimensional. Perhaps that is why silence
remains unscathed. It has the remarkable ability to contain everything without
ever losing its essence.
The blurb
says that “silence becomes its own language.” Can poetry express
silence, or does every poem inevitably break it?
I believe
poetry doesn't break silence. It translates it. A poem is not an interruption
of silence; it is what silence chooses to become when it is ready to be heard.
Before every poem, there is a moment of stillness where emotions exist without
words. Writing begins there. Not everything can or should be explained. Some
experiences are too profound, too fragile, or too sacred for ordinary language.
Poetry gives them a voice without taking away their mystery.
To me, the
most powerful poems are not those that say everything, but those that leave
space for the reader's own silence. I hope my poems invite readers to pause, to
reflect, and to discover meanings that belong uniquely to them. In that sense,
poetry and silence are not opposites. They complete each other. One gives birth
to the other, and together they create a deeper way of communicating one that
goes beyond words.
Do you see
silence and language as opposites, or as partners in the creative process?
I see silence and language as partners, not opposites. Silence is where a poem begins. It is the space where thoughts, emotions, and memories gather before they are ready to take the form of words. Language comes later not to replace silence, but to give it shape. For me, writing is a dialogue between the two. Silence teaches me to listen, while language allows me to share what I have discovered. If either one is missing, the poem loses its balance. Words without silence can become noise, while silence without expression may remain a feeling that never reaches another soul.
As a poet, I
don't try to conquer silence. I try to honor it. Every poem is an attempt to
preserve its depth while making it accessible to others. Perhaps that is the
greatest challenge of poetry: to use words in such a way that the reader can
still hear the silence behind them.
The
description mentions “memories wrapped in a certain light.” What role
does memory play in your work: preservation, reconstruction, or transformation?
For me, memory
is all three: preservation, reconstruction, and transformation. But if I had to
choose one, I would say transformation. We never remember the past exactly as
it was. Time, experience, love, loss, and hope gently reshape our memories.
They remain true, but they are illuminated by a different light each time we
revisit them. That is why I wrote about “memories wrapped in a certain light.” Light
changes what we see without changing what exists. It reveals details we had
forgotten, softens what once hurt us, and sometimes allows us to discover
beauty where we once saw only pain.
In my poetry,
memory is not about looking backward with nostalgia. It is about understanding
who we are today through the echoes of yesterday. Every memory carries the
possibility of becoming something new, a source of wisdom, compassion, or even
quiet healing. I believe poetry has the power to transform memory into meaning.
And perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts of art: not to erase the past,
but to help us see it with new eyes.
Do you
trust memory as a source for poetry, or are you more interested in how memory
distorts experience?
I trust
memory, but not because it is perfectly accurate. Memory is deeply human. It
doesn't preserve events like a camera; it preserves their emotional truth. As
we grow, our understanding of the past changes, and our memories change with
it. I don't see that as a weakness but as part of being alive.
As a poet, I
am less interested in factual precision than in emotional authenticity. A
memory may shift in detail, but the feeling it carries can become even clearer
over time. Sometimes distance allows us to understand an experience more deeply
than we could while living it. Poetry doesn't ask memory to testify like a
witness. It invites memory to reveal what lies beneath the surface, what
remained unspoken, unnoticed, or unresolved.
For me, memory is not a record of
the past. It is an ongoing conversation between who we were, who we are, and
who we are still becoming. That conversation is where many of my poems are
born.
You
describe love as “the strongest force that sets the world in motion.” How
is love explored in the collection: as connection, loss, longing, healing, or
all of these?
Love, to me,
cannot be confined to a single emotion or experience. It is connection, loss,
longing, healing and so much more. It is the invisible force that shapes our
lives, even when we are not aware of it. In this collection, love is not
portrayed as perfect or effortless. It is vulnerable. It asks us to open our
hearts, to accept change, and sometimes to embrace pain as part of growth. Love
can break us, but it can also reveal strengths we never knew we possessed.
I believe love
is the strongest force that sets the world in motion because it is the source
of empathy, compassion, creativity, and hope. Every meaningful human experience
begins with some form of love whether it is for another person, for nature, for
truth, for beauty, or for life itself. My poems explore love in all its
expressions because I don't see it as a destination. I see it as a journey of
becoming. Even in moments of silence, loss, or uncertainty, love continues to
exist. Sometimes it speaks through words, and sometimes through what remains
unspoken.
That is the kind of love I wanted
this book to reflect: not an idealized emotion, but a quiet, enduring presence
that gives meaning to our existence.
Can silence
strengthen love, or does it sometimes threaten it?
Silence never
threatens love by itself. What threatens love is the absence of truth within
that silence. When silence is filled with trust, it becomes intimacy. When it
is filled with fear, it becomes distance.
Love is shaped not by whether we
speak, but by what our silence contains.
What does
poetry mean to you personally?
Poetry is the
way I make sense of life. It allows me to listen more deeply to my emotions, to
silence, to memory, and to the invisible threads that connect us as human
beings. I don't write to provide answers. I write to ask the questions that
truly matter.
For me, poetry
is an act of presence. It invites us to slow down, to feel, and to recognize
the beauty that often hides in ordinary moments. It reminds us that
vulnerability is not weakness, but one of the purest forms of courage. Above
all, poetry is a bridge. It begins with something deeply personal, yet it
reaches toward something universal. If even one reader finds a part of
themselves in my words, then the poem has fulfilled its purpose.
What can poetry reveal that other forms of writing cannot?
Poetry has the unique ability to express what cannot be fully explained. Other forms of writing often seek clarity, information, or conclusions. Poetry, on the other hand, embraces mystery. It allows contradictions to coexist, gives voice to silence, and reaches emotions that exist beyond ordinary language. A poem doesn't simply tell us what to think or feel. It invites us to experience something. Every reader enters the same poem carrying different memories, questions, and hopes, which means the poem becomes a different journey for each person.
That is the quiet power of poetry.
It doesn't offer definitive answers; it awakens recognition. Sometimes a single
verse can reveal more about the human heart than pages of explanation ever
could.
Do you see
poetry as a way of discovering meaning or of creating it?
I believe
poetry is both a journey of discovery and an act of creation. When I begin
writing, I rarely know exactly where the poem will lead me. It often reveals
thoughts and emotions that were already within me, waiting to be recognized. In
that sense, poetry helps me discover meaning.
But the moment
those feelings become words, something new is born. The poem creates
connections, perspectives, and possibilities that did not exist before. It
transforms experience into meaning not only for me, but hopefully for the
reader as well. Perhaps meaning is not something we simply find or invent.
Perhaps it is something we uncover and shape at the same time. For me, that is
the quiet miracle of poetry.
Do you feel
that your poetic voice changes when you write in English rather than Greek?
I don't think my poetic voice changes, its essence remains
the same. What changes is the way it breathes.
Greek is the
language of my roots. It carries the rhythms, memories, and cultural echoes
that have shaped me since childhood. English, on the other hand, invites a
different kind of clarity and openness. It allows me to reach readers from
different cultures while expressing the same emotional truth. I never try to
become a different poet when I write in English. I simply allow the language to
guide the rhythm and texture of the poem. To me, poetry doesn't belong to a
particular language. It belongs to the human heart. Languages may change, but
genuine emotions are universal.
How has
Greek culture and literature shaped your work, even when you are writing in
English?
Greek culture
is not something I consciously add to my writing. It is part of who I am.
Growing up in
Greece, I was surrounded by a culture that has always valued beauty,
philosophy, storytelling, and the search for deeper meaning. Those influences
have shaped the way I see the world, even when I write in English. I think my
poems carry a distinctly Greek sensibility: a love of reflection, an awareness
of the passage of time, and the belief that even suffering can lead to wisdom
and inner transformation.
Writing in
English allows me to reach a wider audience, but my roots remain Greek. They
are present not only in my themes, but in the way I approach life and poetry:
with curiosity, emotional honesty, and a desire to explore what it means to be
human. Languages may change, but our roots continue to nourish every word we
write.
If your
poetry had a homeland, would it be Greece, the English language, or a place
somewhere between the two?
If my poetry
had a homeland, it would not be defined by a map or a language. Greece is where
my roots lie. It shaped my identity, my imagination, and the way I perceive
beauty, history, and the human soul. English has given my poetry the
opportunity to travel beyond borders and connect with readers from different
cultures.
But I believe poetry ultimately belongs wherever a reader recognizes themselves in it. So perhaps its homeland is somewhere between languages, between cultures, and between hearts. A place where emotions speak more powerfully than words, and where our shared humanity becomes the only true home.
Many
contemporary poems speak about silence. What distinguishes your silence from
the silence we encounter in other poetry?
Every poet
experiences silence differently, so I wouldn't claim that my silence is better
or more important than anyone else's. What makes it distinctive for me is that
I don't see silence as emptiness or absence. I see it as a living presence, a
space where memory, love, hope, and self-discovery quietly coexist.
In my poems,
silence is not something to escape or overcome. It is something to listen to.
It asks us to slow down, to become more attentive, and to discover meanings
that cannot be forced into words. If there is something unique about my
silence, perhaps it is that it doesn't seek to hide the truth but it gently
invites the reader to find it within themselves.
What do you
hope a reader carries away after reading the final poem?
I don’t hope
for a single answer or conclusion. If anything, I hope the reader carries a
sense of quiet recognition like something within them has been gently touched
or remembered. Not something new, but something already known in a deeper,
unspoken way. I would like the final poem to leave space rather than closure. A
space where silence still breathes, where emotions are not resolved but
understood, and where the reader feels a little more present within themselves.
If the book
stays with them after the last page, it is not because it explained something,
but because it allowed them to feel something more clearly. That, for me, is
enough.
Η συνέντευξη παραχωρήθηκε στην Βίκυ Σγουρέλλη και το Πολιτιστικό Μγκαζίνο UNSPOTTED στα αγγλικά για την ποιητική συλλογή μου "Silence will remain unscathed", που βρίσκεται σε παγκόσμια κυκλοφορία. Μπορείτε να διαβάσετε τη συνέντευξη κι εδώ: https://unspotted.gr/en/meeting-the-poet-maria-chroniari/?fbclid=IwY2xjawUD3BRwZG9mBWV4dG4DYWVtAjEwAGJyaWQRMUtjMkNSanNURjBYa2FKRExzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEexwaCEPEruQDjE8qVSBmTaosrHE38xW3Q3wCdrVXfiRtEsUabwND-f9yjWpU_aem_RBYrTFP7eNq9howIFmArHw
