translated by Tzoutzi Mantzourani

Shall the first verse be given to me
The old lady on the second floor
Will again become my mother.
Not an acquaintance of mine, however, so sad
Her growing badly old…

She,once, was lively and nimble
Getting in and out of continuous working shifts.
Obedience, production, savings
And a black little curtain between
The older and the younger daughter.

She now lies in stiff bed sheets
Heating with a gas heater
An unfairly big room
Counting in gulps of breaths
How many healthy nights and days
Her uncertain pension can secure

And while sickness moves on properly
In between the terrified daughters
Illegally snoops, the simple touch of caress
Of a gold dusted afternoon
Abundantly covers the duvet
As if the old tumescent woman
Is Catherine of the Great dynasty
Who managed to lead a nation to the sea.
But scarcely can call for the doctor.

  To elahisto pswmi tis sinidisis, Patakis Publications, Athens 2014