Δευτέρα, 5 Σεπτεμβρίου 2016

επιτύμβιο


I was born with agonies
I will die with griefs
(I want) (you) to write my agonies
up on my gravestone

I will climb on a mountain
I will get down in the dark caves
my eyes to extinguish
not to be able to see the sun

I will get down in the garden
to those dewy flowers
to that scarlet rose
to that early white basil