Poem which at length seemed to me a libation (and so I avoided it)

An even wound

translated by Yannis Goumas


in memory of Tassos Livaditis


"There is something
yes something I owe to Livaditis," I kept thinking

and then
            he twisted the knife in my sleep
"look, my boy," he said
"if the blood weren't red
we'd be on another job"

"Fine, I say, "but who's going to mop the floor?"

"I mopped the entire hell," he tells me
"and a little respect for your father will do no harm"

"Ah he's insane
                        this explains everything
but insanity is herediary," I thought
and terrified I ran
to my family tree
to get rid of all unripe
and all bruised apples

"Fine," he tells me
now find your own and cut it in two
chuck one half to the wind
and the other half eat it"

"I refuse," I tell him
"I' m a chip off another old block
it's not possible for an apple tree

not possible to produce citrons"


  [from the collection An even wound, Kedros editions, Athens, 2009]
  One Zero One 1O1 Greek Poets, Odos Panos Publications, Athens, 2013


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