1 - AMIDST A GARDEN I SAT
Amidst
a garden I sat
amidst an orchard
One Sunday afternoon
A Sunday, a day of rest.
I met with my friends
and we took a walk
on the narrow byways of Terpsithea
and at Passalimani
on the narrow byways of Terpsithea
and at Passalimani
Now the garden has vanished
and your friends have scattered
and your walk like a dream
appears to me on every day of rest.
2
- MOTHER - THE MANNA OF HEAVEN
Mother - the manna of heaven
a tree of Paradise
at the root of the high mountain
I planted your blessing
at the root of the high mountain
I planted your blessing
And
from the blessing I planted
a spring came to light
and from the darkness returned
a bird to warble
and from the darkness returned
a bird to warble
Mother
– manna of heaven
what dream is not a dream of you?
Send me a blessing once again
that my pain I might endure
Send me a blessing once again
that my pain I might endure
3 - THE MOTHER OF CHARON
The
mother of Charon sat
at a road and an upgrade
and from the great sighing
the houses are overcome by languor
and the trees by the biting north wind
She
sends a message to the Madonna
and to her only begotten son;
three hundred go in accompaniment
and a thousand hearing swords
The Virgin embroiders birds on a marble fountain
And her son smiles.
The mother of Charon doesn't speak
And will never
speak again.
4
- THEY CALL YOU MOTHER OF CHRIST
They
call you mother of Christ
and I call you Saint Barbara too
key to the closed castle
at the uproad of the battle
They
call you mother of the brigand
and mother of Pilate
but secretly you speak and cry
at the hours of death
From
wherever you are and come from
and whatever language you speak
and however many people are with you
you will not return
and however many people are with you
you will not return
5 - SWEETLY-KISSING MADONNA
Sweetly-kissing
Madonna
my mother and my guide
I too have a heart in my breast
that is withering from by bitterness
For
you were a mother once
and know the heartache
of pain and joy
and the stubbornness of time
For
you were a mother and feel pain;
bring to me my son, my pride
from the foreign land where you lead him
my darkened moon.
6 - YOU WERE AN ORCHARD
Time
has its turnings
and the world its heartaches
and of the many poisons
there remain few I have not drunk
and of the many poisons
there remain few I have not drunk
Your
words are balm
but now you are in foreign lands
and life has become brutal
and has brutalized me too
and life has become brutal
and has brutalized me too
You
were an orchard, but now destroyed
and you were a bird in the trees
and the anguish in my heart
has turned into a black stone.
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