VI
The eye of the sun opens its
fanning fingers again as
the fire from the bowels of
the angry abyss is commanded
to constantly grace the Kore’s
figure and the handsome ephebe
with its flaming agility while its
tongue ploughs scars on the earthly
face as soil lovingly sighs and
the virgin’s lips glimmer.
Fire hugs the melancholy log
and the thermal voice of heat
warms the coldest room
all four walls and arches
all four corners stop shivering.
Conscience in peace, like a queen
reigns over the mystified
anchorites and the lonely
days of the initiates; sunlit creeks,
dancing nights, frothy waves
noon hour with no shadows
suffuse in a unified euphony
to compliment the dream of the troglodyte.
Manolis Aligizakis 