Waking Up
Who was the one who slept early and just woke up
floating amid the hanging plane tree branches,
between two big wide open windows and the cicadas,
beyond time, forgotten, forgetting
listening to the sudden thud of the bucket in the courtyard
looking at the cart-man, with his horse, climbing up the sky?
The voice of the hotel woman down below is stiffened
by the loud chirps of birds. The sound of the broom pushing
the leaves off the marble stairs. They all move higher, higher:
doors, water pitchers, baskets. Hands have the first startle
of Adam and Eve. Children, born today, have one
light-blue eyebrow and one golden.
Manolis Aligizakis 