Tuesday, 28 October 2008

Πέρασα - Passed

I walk and the night comes.
I decide and the night comes.
No,I'm not sad.

I was strange and studied a lot.
I know many things.A bit of everything.
Names of flowers when they die,
when the words turn green and when we get cold.
How easy turns the lock of feelings
with any key of oblivion.
No, I'm not sad.

I spent rainy days,
got strained before this
aquatic wire fence
patient and unobserved,
like the pain of the trees
when their last leaf goes away
and like the fear of the brave.
No,I'm not sad.

I passed through gardens,stood before fountains and saw much,
tiny statues laughing
in unseen reasons of joy.
And some philanderers and boasters.
Their taut bows
were half moons at certain nights and I dreamed.
I saw many wonderful dreams
and I saw myself carried away.
No,I'm not sad.

I walked too much in feelings,
mine and the others,
and always kept space among them
for wide time to pass by.
I visited post-offices and visited them back.
I wrote letters and wrote again,
and to the god of answer I prayed unwearingly.
I received brief cards:
Cordial goodbye card from Patra
and some greetings
from Pisa's leaning tower.
No,I'm not sad the day leans.

Talked too much.To people,
to lamp-posts,to photographs.
And so very much to chains.
I learned to read palms
and to lose hands.
No,I'm not sad.

I traveled, indeed.
I went here,I went there too...
The world seems always ready to get old.
I lost here,I lost there too.
And I lost being attentive
and being inattentive too.
I also went to the sea.
A part of it was promised.Say I've taken it.
I feared loneliness
and pictured myself people.
I saw them falling
from the hand of a quiet dust
that passed through a sunbeam
and others from the sound of a minimal bell.
And I was heard in bells' tolls
of an orthodox desert.
No,I'm not sad.

I also touched fire and slowly got burned.
And didn't miss the moons' experiences at all.
Their loss above the seas and above the eyes,
dark enough, sharpened me.
No,I'm not sad.

As much as I could,I resisted this river
when it had plenty of water,not to take me away,
and as much as possible, imagined water
in dried rivers
and let me being swept along.

No,I'm not sad.
Night comes on the right time.

Kiki Dimoula

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