“The Greece that resists, the Greece that persists” has lost its bard. Because this was the Greece Dionysis Savvopoulos hymned in his songs for sixty plus years.

When times were hard and when the livin’ was easy. Through joys and hardships. To applause and jeers. On occasions of celebration and of mourning.

A Greece that was positively glowing with pride at the climax of the 2004 Olympic Games, as Dionysis played the lead role in the closing celebrations.

And a Greece that would six years later be plunged into crisis, bloodied, and forced to fight its way back to the surface.

It’s as though resistance, paired with persistence, were the true nature of this land!

A resistance that had little to do with imaginary and usually invented foes. And still less with the resistance fueled by narcissistic blowhards.

Rather, a resistance above all against the worst aspects of Greece itself—the ones that lead it astray every time Fate strikes a blow.

Savvopoulos wasn’t a politician; it wasn’t his job to build the roads. But he was a sensitive and sincere artist who knew how to walk them.

And we walked at his side all these years, along the straight and narrow road back to the light after every storm. We found him for ourselves, without anyone having to point him out.

And he didn’t spare us, either. It wasn’t in his nature.

But he made us understand. And everyone, whether it was through their instinct or their intellect or their souls, came to realize that we all have to do all we can for this country we call home.

Without fuss or rhetoric, without boasts. Without excess or hysteria.

Because the Greece that resists and the Greece that persists is the good Greece which warrants all of our resistance and persistence.

A Greece that is measured and ambitious, hard-working and progressive, with self-respect and self-confidence, with confidence and courage, with arts and intellect.

A Greece that embraces its roots not because it cannot extricate itself from them, but because it loves and honors them. Because it was grew out of them.

And now we must keep on walking without our bard beside us. But with his melodies and lyrics in our ears.

In any case, one thing is certain: wherever Greece resists and wherever Greece persists, Savvopoulos, our “ugly parrot in the braces and glasses” will be there at our side.