Suspicious Sleep
There, at the edge of the sky, just above the mountain peak,
a little star
announces its happiness, with a rhythmic though out of tune
voice
like the young fruit seller who sells the first summer
fruits
with a voice so convincing, almost deserted.
And you felt guilty because you didn’t have the urge
to respond. If you at least hadn’t seen,
hadn’t understood. Guilty, not counting
the guilt of others. You, all alone, put all the responsibility
on your shoulders
and you understood all your innocence. You went inside
so that you wouldn’t see anymore;
you got dressed and after you put on your shoes, you lied down,
and fell asleep.
Manolis Aligizakis 