IV
on her bed the girl faces the wall
she plays with the worn out stucco
she draws
sometimes a person’s face
sometimes a ship
that foretells the future
a fairy with the seven fingers dances
the serpent, the old nail
tie the tale together.
Turned to the wall
she befriends an unknown person
she cries for a death,
always a sudden death,
mine, my mother’s
and flowers, a lot of flowers
in the remote chapel by the rock
solemn promise to Alexander the Great
and to the other saints…
the dream, but a yellow wall
as the drawings talk to children
and frighten the adults.
Manolis Aligizakis 