Poem by Miltos Sachtouris
DIFFICULT SUNDAY
Since morning I’ve been gazing a better bird up high
since morning I’ve been enjoying a snake wrapped around my neck
broken cups on the carpet
purple flowers on the cheeks of the seer
when she lifts the skirt of Fate
something will sprout out of this joy
a new blossomless tree
or a pure young eyelid
or a beloved word
that wouldn’t kiss the lips of forgetfulness
bells chime out there
my imaginary friends wait for me out there
they’re lifting up and circling around a dawn
what tediousness, what tediousness
yellow dress — the embroidered eagle —
the green parrot — I close my eyes — it caws
always always always
the orchestra plays cheap tunes
what passionate eyes, what women
such love, such cry, such love;
love my friend, blood my friend
give me your hand, my friend, such cold
it was freezing
I no longer know the time they all died
and I remained with my amputee friend
and with the company of a bloodied twig
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 