Poem by Kostas Karyotakis
IDEAL SUICIDAL MEN
They lock the door behind them, take
their old well-kept letters
read them silently, then they drag
their feet for the last time
life was a tragedy, they say.
God, how macabre the laughter of men
the tears, the sweat, nostalgia
of the sky, loneliness in the world.
They stand by the window, they gaze
the children, the trees the far away vista
the men of the quarry hammering
the sun that always goes down.
It’s all over. The note is written
short, simple, precise, as it suits,
indifferent, full of forgiveness
for the one who will cry reading it.
They look in the mirror, notice the time
question whether it’s craziness or perhaps a mistake
it’s all over they whisper, now
certain that they’ll finally postpone it.
Manolis Aligizakis 