Posts Tagged ‘‘ΜOONLIGHT SONATA’ by Yannis Ritsos’

Translated from Greek by Manolis, excerpt

Let me come with you What a moon tonight!
The moon is good – it doesn’t show my
gray hair The moon will turn my hair golden again
You won’t see the difference
Let me come with you

When the moon is up the shadows in the house grow longer
invisible arms pull the curtains
an invisible finger writes forgotten words in the dust
on the piano – I don’t want to hear them Keep silent

Let me come with you
down the road to the brick factory’s wall fence
to the point where the road turns and the city
appears airy though made of cement whitewashed by moonlight
so indifferent and fleshless
so positive like beyond flesh
that after all you can believe you exist and don’t exist
that you have never existed that time and its ravaging never existed
Let me come with you

We shall sit on the ledge of the knoll for a while
and as the spring breeze blows on us
we may imagine we shall fly because
many times even now I hear my dress rustling
like the sound of two powerful wings flapping
and when you enclose yourself in this sound of flying
you feel firmness in your neck your ribs your flesh
and thus firmly put within the muscles of the blue wind
within the vigorous nerves of the height
it doesn’t matter whether you leave or return
and it doesn’t matter that your hair has turned gray
(this is not my sorrow – my sorrow
is that my heart hasn’t turned white)
Let me come with you

I know that everyone marches to love alone
alone to glory and to death
I know it I tried it It’s of no use
Let me come with you.

From ‘Yannis Ritsos – Poems’ by Manolis, Libros Libertad 2010

View this poem in original Greek