Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume II, Second Edition


The mountain, light-blue at the distance, rolls down

           to the sea;

two horses rest in the shade of the church building;

the endless day vanishes in its light.

When you clapped your hands five birds flew away

          from the trees;

you looked at them and forgot why you clapped:

perhaps in despair or was it perhaps a lone

clap for what you didn’t know?

Then, looking for what was to follow, you didn’t clap

again. Therefore is death so natural?


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