Poem by Manolis Anagnostakis
THEY WERE YOUNG
The roads were dark and muddy
the food on the table scarce
the kiss by the front door stolen
and love locked in their little hearts
they were young, just children
and by chance they were of a good crop
they spent their nights in basement tavernas
and roamed the neighborhoods all night long
ah, those side streets and corners
how nicely they kept the honest words
they were young, just children
and by chance they were of a good crop
at home they knew no father, no mother
they didn’t care about anything
they never saved any coins in piggy-banks
they never held a measuring tape or compass
they were young, just children
and by chance they were of a good crop
Manolis 