I like what remains. Like sediment, Ash and an echo. This is a forum to talk about that which remains.
Την βλέπεις;
Να εκεί, στο πάτωμα, μάζεψέ την.
Μια σταγόνα καφέ
που ξεχείλισε από την έμπνευση
Μην μπερδευτείς:
Δεν είναι χώμα ούτε νερό
Είναι ενας καφέ λεκές
Γεμάτος λέξεις, σιωπές και
άναρθρες ακυρώσεις
Πες του ότι αρκεί
για να δεσπόσει στη λευκή σου σελίδα
Μην μπερδευτείς:
Δεν είναι ούτε τελεία, ούτε κόμμα
Είναι μια μουτζούρα
Γεμάτη μεταβλητές, λογοπαίγνια και
κρυμμένες ματαιώσεις
Πες της ότι αρκεί
για να λεκιάσει τη λευκή σου ουσία
Once upon a time, History whispered
there was a fire that burned the Beings, their Names and their Eyes
She was scary, she was deadly
She was big and destroyed everything at her path
People did not expect this Nemesis
and screamed while burning
Why, Gods? What was our Ibris?
You saw us Eye to Eye, Gods replied
and the winds blew even stronger
The waves grew even taller
You knew that these places were sacred,
You knew that we envied their wilderness and simplicity
They said
Once upon a time, the Time learned
there was History that allowed Fires to burn people’s lives
She was resentful, she was tough
She was unfair and destroyed all hopes at her path
People did not expect this turning in history
and screamed while drowning
Why, History? What did we not learn from you?
You took today and the day after for granted
She replied
My unexpected turns, are like random dices in children’s games
She said
Once upon a time, the Fire recalled
there were `Beings under the sun
They laughed, they played, they cried, they loved
There were Eyes that dared to see
There were Names that had meaning
Now ashes cover the blue-green landscape
and only some half-burned toys in black gardens
are the reminders of anything alive
Before dying remorseful, the Fire went
to a different fairy tale and became
the Fire that burned the distances
Once upon a time, History whispered,
There was a Fire that burned the distances and Time
The Names and the Beings from everywhere could feel the same pain and loss
They rushed to rebuild and to rescue. They rushed to rename.
However far, Eyes of imagination could remember
and this warmed other Eyes’ willingness
to be
and to dream
People in the graves were soothed, but wondered:
Why History? Why did Fire decide to do this?
It is not mine nor the Fire’s choice, she replied.
It was people’s intentions and decisions
that I could not but obey.
When people unite
history can change its turning
and random dices in children’s games
can become ways of celebrating chances.
Chances or Τύχη; asked the souls.
This is for another fairy tale,
she said.
sedimentary 