9th of November/ evening
Suddenly, winter came. It smells of rain.
Strong south winds uproot the thorny shrubs,
blow them onto the barbed wire.
We put on our jackets, we put our hands in our pockets.
A cloud descended to the middle of the road,
took the telegraph poles aside, and talked to them.
We know, though, that whatever they talk about
the bread will remain bread and the just just.
And we don’t mind their secret talk at all.
The afternoon bus, loaded with flour, passed.
It left behind a ripped envelope and orange peels.
One by one all the exiles went out and urinated
on the grass,
they pushed against the wind with their foreheads.
Soon after, they stood and gazed at the clouds.
Somewhere, it smelled of raisin and cicadas.
Manolis Aligizakis 