translated by Maria Nazos

Our talks kept us late into the middle of night.
We are in shadows.
Around us objects
all those small familiar things that bound us
animated with peace
recite their names: chair, table, crock.

The soul asks for nothing anymore.
I mull over the great loves
springtime
like a rhythmically heaving chest
your face presse against the window
and the window
(a strange plant dances in the rain).

The firs steam in the midst of their sleep.
Wind hovers over the stars.
Drowsy colonies of moss
burn side-by-side in silence.
How is the night so dark
if the sky is lurking
if right outside the moon
and this earth’s mystical life—

The eyes of wild animals take in your taste.
Your lips are chilled
and the dawn will come
like snow flooding down from a purple cloud.

     Three Notes for a Melody, Nefeli Publications, Athens, 2004