Painting by Patrick von Kalckreuth, Germany 1892-1970
Pastime
When we were kids
the old men were about thirty
a puddle was an ocean
death flat and even
didn’t exist
then when we were kids
old men were people in their forties
a pond was an ocean
death only
a word
by the time we got married
the old people were in their fifties
a lake was an ocean
death was the death
of the others
now veterans
we’ve caught up with the truth
the ocean is at last the ocean
but death is beginning
to be ours.
ΧΡΟΝΟΥ ΠΕΡΑΣΜΑ
Σαν είμασταν παιδιά
οι τριαντάρηδες ήταν μεγάλοι
απ’ τη βροχή μιά λιμνούλα ωκεανός
ο θάνατος ίσια γραμμή ανύπαρκτη
σαν παντρευτήκαμε
οι πενηντάρηδες ήταν μεγάλοι
μια λίμνη ο ωκεανός
κι θάνατος για τους άλλους.
Τώρα συνταξιούχοι πια
μας έφτασε η αλήθεια
ο ωκεανός είναι ωκεανός
κι ο θάνατος δικός μας
Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη//Translated by Manolis Aligizakis
Mario Benedetti, Uruguay (1920 – 2009)
Escalation
He hesitated before the mailbox — he didn’t mail the letter.
He remembered that he had omitted the most important thing.
Now he had to re-open the envelope (carefully prepared), to edit
the beautiful letter with smudges and additions. But, no; he could
add a postscript (equally calligraphic) however would the postscript
be the most important? Yes, it’s better that way, without any
pretension and emphasis — this is a method too. No one pays
attention to the last words anymore; they’re all in a rush — the
importance lies in their obscureness. Even more so, better
with no postscript — the added omission is more precise, and
more so is silence. He looked around him and placed the letter in
the box. The bronze dog in the park didn’t see him — it was
looking elsewhere, towards the young couple kissing
at the bench.
Fires
Ancient fires still
burning inside the temples
outside the porticos
and in the center of the agora
where the eloquent poet once
orated verses before
the paranoid oligarchy
expelled him from the city
paranoia, anxiety, fearful
thought, agony in numbers
images that still come to us
and nothing has really
changed over the eons
except for the invention
of bullets to speed up
the general apathy
Archipelago
Under icy archipelago, krill
dance en masse like a curtain pleat
to the chorus of arctic
current searching for
direction and they mingle
and they grow just enough
to stay trapped inside
the baleen of leviathan
with teary eyes, with big
a heart keeping ahead of the
ocean in undulating breath
and inhospitable depth as
harsh temperature of winter
interlocks with short summer
sunlight in meshing perfection
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763033
Manolis Aligizakis 