που μάτωνε τη σκιά του.
Έγινε Δέντρο.
Ήξερα κάποτε κάποιον
που επιμελώς γυάλιζε τη σκιά του.
Έγινε Σύννεφο.
Ηξερα κάποτε κάποιον
που αρνιότανε ότι είχε σκιά.
Έγινε Βροχή.
Ηξερα κάποτε κάποιον
που συνομωτούσε με τη σκιά του.
Έγινε Γκρεμός.
Ηξερα καποτε καποιον
που φοβόταν τη σκιά του.
Έγινε Aετός.
Ηξερα κάποτε κάποιον
που ερωτεύτηκε τη σκιά του.
Έγινε Nυχτολούλουδο.
Ήξερα κάποτε κάποιον
που η σκιά του ήταν πάντα αλαφρή.
Εγινε Πρωινή δροσιά.
Ήξερα-κι' ακόμα ξέρω-κάποιον
που φώτιζε τις σκιές των άλλων.
Έγινε Ποιητής.
.................
I knew somebody sometime
who bled his shadow.
He became a Tree.
I knew somebody sometime
who thoroughly polished his shadow.
He became a Cloud.
I knew somebody sometime
who refused of having a shadow.
He became Rain.
I knew somebody sometime
who colluded with his shadow.
He became a Cliff.
I knew somebody sometime
who was afraid of his shadow.
He became an Eagle.
I knew somebody sometime
who fell in love with his shadow.
He became a Night-flower.
I knew somebody sometime
whose shadow was always light.
He became Morning Dew.
I knew-still know-somebody sometime
who illumined other people's shadows.
He became a Poet.
Panagiotis Xourafas
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