Not Executed
Clouds on the mountain. Whose fault is it? He, tired, looks
straight ahead, returns, walks, stoops.
The stones are on the ground, the birds up in the air.
A water pitcher stands at the windowsill. Thorns in the fields.
Hands in the pockets. Pretenses, pretenses. The poem delays.
Emptiness. Speech is defined by what it has silenced.
Manolis Aligizakis 