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"Lyricotera" / "Poetica" - Poems




Bright pain

How can you bear it, you go through the dream
inhaling futile gusts of wind?
You cannot fear the night of the angels,
cannot know the language of the rain.
Otherwise you'd close your mouth in your prayer,
would hear my heart's secret song.

How can you stand it, you go through the dream
believing in unjust moons?
Not recalling how you shine in the whirlpool of my time,
not forgetting the sea in the hour of the North wind.
Once more softly you perform your dance
flowing like a lightning-flash, that also steals my light.


Sobbing angels

Did you hear the sobbing of the angels
on Monday morning
on the edge of my heart?
They were mourning on Sunday
which passed away, having never really been,
in danced-through nights,
wandering with empty wings
at your closed window.

You came secretly by night
in a borrowed boat
in years full of storms.
I'll find the occasion
to offer the angel;
I'll come in transparent darkness
full of the truth of little birds
at your closed window.


Light pause

Golden drops your eyes –
now weary in a green night,
now they glint
at futile gods.
He who seeks your tears
may be imitating the bitter rhythm of love.

Sea-birds your shadow –
now measuring themselves against a dark rock,
now beating wings over red islands.
He who writes your tears
may be imitating the bitter rawness of love.


July

I wonder what silence you inhabit.
It is July, which makes words decay
and in the empty light our body shrunk.
I climbed up a tree of heaven
to tell the birds a tale about you
to believe even more in my loneliness.

I wonder what silence you inhabit.
It is July, drunk with Greece,
it dances our pain on one leg.
From up there in the sky, the heights you've ascended,
you'll flash a lightning glance, deep into my heart
and believe more even in my solitude.


With the ocean's clenched strength

Music I learnt from your step
and the proud day from your glance.
You pass by song, contemplate moon
and keep on leaving with the ocean's clenched strength.

I come with tales on your birthday
at noon, outside in your air.
I will come with sun, with March
and you'll knit a high wave, for me to perish.


Nostalgia

To the days that are coming
I give island faces.
My love held sacred
in the name of my heart,
so you'll be the world's rebirth
and above all death.

The nights that pass
draw red lines.
My love held sacred
in the name of my heart
so you'll be the world's rebirth
and above all death.


Obstinate present

My joy belongs to hope
and death to history.
You sail, twilight being, Tyrannos.
Sit and listen to the sea:
Drum-rolls of the stars herald secrets
and cosmic algae echo ancient storms.
Between mussel-shells pounds my heart.

My soul aches in songs
my body in your beauty.
You sail, twilight being, Tyrannos.
Learn to hear death:
tell passions that make the heart weary
and hide waves that will reject kindly moons.
Between the dreams our life contracts.


Water trees

Many moons will wither
before the sea returns to the Logos
and the rock lights up in the cleft of the heart,
before you gird your body with the wave
and can offer the honey of your eyes to
the stranded and the outcast.

Many moons will wither
before night teaches me the song
and myth becomes tender words,
before you break the oath you made to destiny
and shine from the edge of your soul onto
the stranded and the outcast.


Suicide of a reserve month

Reservist August committed suicide
on the evening of love.
An orchestral sea played his soul down
to the nether heaven of lost moons.
And the newly-recruited autumn months
take the oath on the constitution of night
on knees bent in prayer:
Holy is love, holy is longing
holy is death, have mercy upon us.
Feelings burst out red;
my love vanished between the stars.


Like a cloud

Little by little, you say what you have decided
and walk on - cloud between stars
waiting for the moon.
My deep silence
can you read it in the dark?
Into the waves you throw my heart
that the beloved has broken in two.

Little by little, you say what you have decided
and go - draining cloud, winds,
in Summers that are already over.
In my wet silence
can you hear me, secretly coveting you?
In the evening you bind river to river,
turn on the light that makes me lonely.


Translated into English by Ariel Wagner-Parker





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