The Fountain
In the moldy garden
water reflows from
the stony mouth of Poseidon
and the undefeated frog
gives birth to its new generation
over the solemn fossils.
Ah, yes sweetness unexpectedly
overflows the same way
the fountain rises again
among its watery suns
while my soul,
an unprepared squirrel,
shades itself with its tail.
And as the park becomes slowly alive
and the owls stir
in their dark offices
and the thunderous water dances
over the silent rocks
of the closed house
like a stately residence, my life
turns alive again
by the talkative waters
you pour in my mouth.
Manolis Aligizakis 