translated by Yannis Goumas


There are women with a garden soul
they blossom, wither, shed leaves, bleed,
are reproduced
with circadian rhythm, with autistic tedium
till they vanish from sight
for good

and if you were to ask them, they’d have done so
in the first place
the women with a garden soul
would offer themselves as pollen to feed
the lepidoptera
to lean strangers on them to savour progenitors
to beget to become parasitic lovers
of their undoing

thus they persevere and never complain
hooked on life
hard roots
women with garden souls

they live for that wondrous moment when the colours
pass on
when the wings are unfolded
and the blade of passion hangs
sharp,
emigration, lovers’ Damoclean sword

 


    Terrarium, the Ward’s Case, Melani Publications, Athens, 2014