Days of 1896
He was utterly disgraced. One of his erotic inclinations,
literally forbidden and condemned
(nonetheless inbred), was the reason:
Society was quite puritanical.
Bit by bit, he lost what little money he had.
Then he lost his position and his reputation.
He was close to thirty years old without ever having worked
as long as a year at least at a job we know of.
Sometimes he earned his expenses from
Interceding in deals that were considered shameful.
He ended up being the type of person who, if you were seen
with him often, it was possible that you could be seriously discredited.
But this is not the whole story. It wouldn’t be right.
Above all, his beauty needs to be mentioned.
There is another point of view, and if he is seen from that angle
he appears likable; he seems simple and pure
young man of love who, without any thought
placed above his honour and his reputation
the sensual delight of his innocent flesh.
And his reputation? But society,
prudish and stupid, made comparisons.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562856

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763823

Long-listed for the 2023 Griffin Poetry Awards

https://griffinpoetryprize.com/press/2023-longlist-announcement/

Matter of Lighting
All these took place because each night I followed
my impulse and each time I passed the bridge
I felt my life more foreign to me or I recalled that
I never kissed father while he was alive, despite of all
our poverty, or my cup that dwelt in heavens since
I had always been accommodated in the kitchen
and since one of my legs had rotted in the rain,
the others had to manage my birds, thus I became
an easy target; therefore I now sit in my room where,
with a few cognacs, I finally regain a meaning or I mix
with strange things: sometimes the soup bowl that
steamed in the middle of family supper and other
times this horrible murder you find
when you raise the lamp a little higher.

https://draft2digital.com/book/4051627

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763564

WINTER LANDSCAPE
The grotesque full moon like a slab of ice,
motionless, standing in the middle of sea,
and a big silent reef, as exposed as my palm
with an old, sad, tragically small cane stick
and a shadow-something, that I don’t know
what I’ve lost, returns, unable to becalm
that lost trio frozen and fully lit
in a silent vigil in the night, in the cold

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562959

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763513

Hand
Ah, the feathery touch of a hand
unable to commit to darkness
and the limping sparrow hops
and marvels at his reflection
in the shallow puddle thinking
he is the smartest airflow
just before the falcon’s claws
dive in the fluff of his feathers
ah, the diaphanous laughter of the creek
unable to commit to the ocean
and the lonely trout marvels
at his swiftness searching for a mate
against autumnal rush of water
thinking he is the smartest water lily
just before the man’s hook
sets its claw deep in his mouth

https://draft2digital.com/book/3747032#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1771715987

Πέντε μικρά ρωσικά ποιήματα