A bunch of strange people come every night to find
some warmth and consolation in her songs, those people
who talk of their old, dead friends, as they are still
there accompanying them and every so often they spill
some wine on the floor, a libation to the irreversible
end.
Elias said to him, “Will you leave her alone?” “No”,
the other said. Then Elias, being a smart man said
to him: “if you love her get married to her, she’s all
yours”. The other backed down. You see he wanted her
for the bed scene not for his table; that was too much.
Then Elias decided to marry her. God bless his soul.
Elias dead for twenty years now and she relives
each night with the insignificant eternal words.
At that exact moment the man with bouzouki entered:
he swears all day long that he’ll turn his life around
but when night comes and the world becomes deeper
and those distant voices with their deadly attraction
are heard (where do they come from?) as if someone
suddenly pushes him
as he passes through the first tavern, (indeed he often
was startled and turned to see who pushed him)
he enters and starts to drink and drink and play
for himself, endless hours, with foggy eyes, wrapped
around his bouzouki as if fighting a demon. “Only Olga
was good; this Hebrew and Asimina drink a lot and
then they urinate in their cloths. Another one, Barbara,
daughter of the Phanariotisa, when she drank her
pants always fell then, come John, get the mop”
(to help clean the floor of the tavern for some
wine as payment).
Manolis Aligizakis 