translated by  Yannis Goumas

Nighttime in the middle of the island
my skeleton worn away by her hand
bees and ants marshalled
by the sun.

She’ll be making for home any moment now
she places the basket of wild strawberries over her left arm
leans a little towards his voice, observes him calmly
her bloodshot eyes sparkling.

The most brazen, the most beautiful one
beneath the black vault and the stars’ acumen
she’ll imitate again the grace and power of a sword.

  Rose-coloured fear, Bilieto Publications, Athens 2002