Diaphaneity
Clean windowpanes. Wintery sun. Great diaphaneity. A
lighted cigarette smokes; not Ithaca, a different adventure,
joyous void, not even denial, nor obedience, nor question.
The old man with a sack on his shoulder passes outside.
The opposite hill with the cypresses is visible between
the houses and the young shepherd between the chairs
of this house (since houses are diaphanous).
The woman is visible too searching for the broom
she holds in her hand.
An inverted window filled with sky reflected in the mirror.
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Manolis Aligizakis 