Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume II


The house was empty, full of expectation. He couldn’t

endure it; he closed the door behind him and went

                 to the street.

The door got unhinged and followed him. He could hear,

quite clearly, his door following him in the street, which

was quite flooded by lights, and he sensed the vertical

loneliness of the door on his back, and, behind the door,

he felt the empty house and its expectation. Then he


turned and letting his face lean against the door he

              started crying.



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