Days of 1909, 1910, and 1911
He was the son of a tormented, destitute
sailor (from an island in the Aegean).
He worked in a blacksmith’s shop. He wore old, ragged clothes.
His work shoes were ripped and pitiful.
His hands were stained by rust and oil.
At night, after he closed the shop,
if there was something he really craved,
some expensive tie,
a tie for Sunday,
or if he had seen a beautiful shirt
in a window display and yearned for it,
he would sell his body for five or ten talons.
I ask myself if, in ancient days
Alexandria had never had a young man as handsome,
a more perfect ephebe than him, who was so wasted:
we know no painting or statue was made of him,
thrown away in that filthy blacksmith’s shop,
with heavy work and common debauchery
he was quickly wasted.
Manolis Aligizakis 