Assistance
The wind converses in front of the windows
like those who are going to separate
The furniture becomes like the poor girls gathering
fallen olives The evening walks under the olive trees
all alone and the field with harvested wheat
is a denial The shed husk of the cicada
resembles a small bell-tower fallen on dry grass
The drizzle comes later – it hunts the sparrows
slowly the moon lies down under the cypresses
like the abandoned plow The plowman
sleeps beneath the soil –
his wife alone with the dog and the thin ox
The hands of silence are frozen
as she ties her black headscarf under her chin
But the trace of his hand stays on the wood of the plow
more strong than his hand
and the chair’s back keeps the warmth of his broad shoulder
blades
About these insignificant things – I don’t know –
I want to write a small song that will show I don’t know
anything about all these only that they are as they are
alone completely alone and they don’t ask for any mediation
between themselves and someone else
Manolis Aligizakis 