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UNE FEMME EN MARBLE


UNE FEMME EN MARBLE
(To a white statue in Vienna)


Big, warm in her nakedness
A beautiful body of a woman -
femme en marble!
Unknown woman,
sparkling white
Sit, crouched
in a square in Vienna

Who modeled her?

The mysterious woman
Resting in the sun,
beauty left alone,
White and warm bud –
wanted,
Sit crouched
In the coldness
of her marble

Who modeled her?

Time and weather
Will do their blind work:
wrinkles will appear.
beauty will vanish;

What a sacrilege!
To leave her out in rain,
wind and sun
To let her get old in
a plaza of Vienna.

Who modeled her?
a sculptor-lover maybe…
----------
Une femme en marbre
(une statue blanche à Vienne)


Chaud dans sa nudité
Un beau corps de femme --
Femme en marbre!
Inconnu femme,
en marbre blanc
accroupie
dans un square en Vienne

Qui a modelé son corp?

La femme mystérieuse
Repos dans le soleil,
beauté oubliée seul,
Blanc chaud comme le bourgeon --
Voulu, pas encore ouvert
accroupi, dans la froideur
de son marbre

Qui a modelé son corp?

Le temps et la pluie, le gel
Feront leur travail aveugle:
les rides vont apparaitre.
La beauté disparaîtra;

Quel sacrilège!
De quitter un beau corps de femme
sous la pluie, sous
le vent et le soleil
Quel sacrilège!
De permettre à son corp de vieillir
dans une place de Vienne.

Qui a modelé ce corp?
un sculpteur - l’amant de la femme, peut-être ...


Sunday, December 28, 2008
3:10 AM

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LOOK AROUND WITH REVERENCE


LOOK AROUND
WITH REVERENCE


Each day
Look around with reverence!

Each day
write an ode
to one thing!

Today I write to technology
To atom
To life
To numbers
To days on the calendar

I’ll write to a rose – the one
which pricked my fingers
To the child who called:
“Good morning”,
To the stone which hurt my foot
when I ran in the park
today

I write verses to myself
Because

I deserve it

Sunday, December 21, 2008
4:35 AM

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THE AEGEAN SEA


THE AEGEAN SEA


With shores as Bruxelles’s laces and
The countless tiny islands
broken away from mainland
Greece is a heavenly universe

I am lying on the warm sand of
Ouranopolis beach, made of
crystal transparent jewelers;
the water caresses my feet;
the air is so fresh.

Aphrodite breathed over this shore and
The reddish stones became rubies
the green stones – emeralds
the black ones – onyxes
the white glass ones – diamonds

I do not move or I’ wil be transformed into
a statue in bronze – or cooper; or
a piece of pounce

I am not afraid – my witness is
The mighty sun – she’ll make me
shine as silver, or gold
or I will melt;

It doesn’t matter; I am powerless and
happy on the Aegean shore,
under the Apollo’s spell
and Aphrodite’s wand…

Sunday, December 21, 2008
4:35 AM

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ATHENA UNDER THE KILLING SUN


ATHENA UNDER THE KILLING SUN


Athena under the killing sun – looks so familiar to me
The same streets I was passing by long time ago;
A well known restaurant is next door to my hotel but
I am looking for my old brick house!

I sit on a bench in Omonia Plaza and look around:
Where can it be? I am sure I’ll find it. Well…
I know and I don’t know this place:
Not far from here is a sign that reads “Subway”.
Ah! That mountain in the horizon – Lykavittos
I stroll in the area; I buy a thing or two, and
Eating pretzels I try to catch my “deja vue” feelings.
Two gypsies came close to me; craving for attention,
the man hits the woman making her crie; but I was mute;
I didn’t want to interfere…

Longing to reach the mountain...How could I get there?
It is lunch time and my people are hungry
We gather at a restaurant and order
moussaka, suvlaki, tzatziki,
fried eggplants, red wine and eau de vie;
I might as well enjoy the meal,
Sip my coffee and go to my hotel room
for a well deserved afternoon siesta.

The thick, heated air of the day starts to lift away
As the city came alive people are heading to the hill;
I found my way to Lykavittos and walk alone
in the middle of the crowd;
A dog follows me; it came from other time;
Its barking at oncoming cars and passers by
doesn’t distract me; trys to bite a soldier in uniform
and runs before me then stops wagging his tail
I buye a ticket for the railway and stepped into the coach;

The dog with me; the grinding, screechy machine
move slowly up the hill and stops there.
I step out: breath taking view. I knew these lava rivers,
red and luminous, meandering down the hill,
melting on the streets;
Subtle glows of metal shades hanging from
The tall lamp-posts, stain the pavement; to the right,
background to the large silhouette of Parthenon,
a dark green patch of trees, fluffy as a sponge

Breath! Breath! A breeze of recognition blows my hair;
Hold it! my memories split between two worlds.
I was here before – the divine place could have
offered to me wisdom…
Ready to descend, I look down for the last time;
Winding, lazy rivulets of milk and honey
ran down the hill, uniting in a golden river
at the skirts of Lykavittos hill
The dog waits for me knowing I’ll give to him
some food. Maybe it can show me – Where
my old house stands…

Sunday, December 21, 2008
4:34 AM

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A COUNTRY MORNING


A COUNTRY MORNING


Mornings we get up early
In the country side;

On that late August day I threw
fresh water on my face;
I took my small basket,
A stick to help me climb the slopes
And I was ready for adventure –
my granny and I,
we went to our vineyard.

When the sky lightened
we got there;
Grandma laid a rag on the reddish soil
we sat down to eat the bread and cheese,
we brought from home
We drank cold water from a spring,
we talked –

My granny did the talking
most of that time.
Her stories – more fantast than one
can imagine, were adapted
to one listener only: me
Her stories – broken pieces from
the forgotten ages
made me laugh or cry

We ate the glassy, transparent grapes,
Full of light and earthy wealth
We gather the heavy grapes
in our baskets;
we eat some more and we
Were ready to return home.

The border of the road called me
to pick the velvet’ flowers;
Running to keep pace with granny
I didn’t know at hat time
how happy I was

Sunday, December 21, 2008
4:34 AM

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