A Familiar Dog
This dog we have known for years – always the same
always with a big bone in his teeth that he doesn’t even eat
his teeth don’t let it go (and how is he to bark?)
unless every night when we sleep while hiding
he gnaws it secretly and digging somewhere – who knows –
he finds a new bone for the next day or unless
he has learned that barking is useless
that he doesn’t protect anybody neither garden nor house
neither fountain nor himself from the moon from time
from the thieves
THEY SHOULD HAVE CARED
I ended up very poor and almost homeless.
This fateful city, Antioch,
ate up all my money;
this fateful city with its expensive life.
But I am young and in excellent health.
Quite fluent in Greek
(I know—I truly know—Plato and Aristotle;
orators, poets, whoever you care to name).
Of military matters I know a little,
and I have friends among the mercenary leaders.
I’m also well connected inside the Administration.
I stayed in Alexandria for six months last year;
I know something about its affairs (and this is useful):
Kakergetis’ aspirations, and his dirty tricks, etcetera.
Therefore I believe I am qualified
and suitable to serve this country,
my beloved homeland, Syria.
In whichever position they place me
I’ll try to be useful to the country. This is my intention.
But if they obstruct me with their schemes—
we know them, the industrious ones; what more is there to say?
If they obstruct me, it is not my fault.
First I will approach Zabinas,
and if that moron doesn’t appreciate me,
I will go to his opponent, Grypos.
And if that idiot doesn’t appoint me,
I’ll go straight to Hyrkanos.
In any case one of the three will want me.
And my conscience is clear,
for not caring which one I choose:
All three harm Syria equally.
But, a ruined man now, is it my fault?
I, the unfortunate, am just trying to patch it up.
The mighty Gods should have cared
enough to have created a fourth, a good person.
Gladly I would have gone to him.
Manolis Aligizakis 